The End in the Entitlement
by Shinto Red
Summary: A series of murders have struck a local university campus, though not everything is as it seems, leaving Booth more than a little frustrated. Between S6 & S7. Explores shift in team dynamic due to kids and pregnancy. Deals with sexual assault. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** _Okay. I decided to give it another ago with fic #2 for Bones. I don't know about you guys, but I am so hyped about the upcoming season after seeing the sneak peak that Fox aired of the first episode of Season 7. It helped me get a little inspired. The story is set after the events of season 6… I guess a pre-season 7 case. Hope you enjoy._

**STANDARD DISCLAIMER: None of the characters, the show, etc. are mine. I do not gain any profit from writing this. I just get to indulge in a little guilty pleasure. **

**The End in the Entitlement**

**By Shinto Red**

**CHAPTER 1**

Hoots, hollers and grunts of excitement spilled out from the mouths of the red jersey clad group of collegiate athletes as helmets and football gear spilled across the locker room.

"DUDE! That was a frickin' awesome pass! And the way Jerry just caught it as it was slo-mo… IT WAS JUST AWESOME!" said a broad shouldered blond who punched a fist into his open palm to emphasize his point.

An African-American player with startling green eyes let his lips curve into a cocky grin. "It was amazing, wasn't it? I hope the scouts saw that one…"

"Are you kidding? They should be standing outside with contracts ready to be signed for that! Also for the touchdown Tim scored in the first half…" stated a third dark haired player as he high fived the green eyed player. "Speaking of Tim… Where the hell did he go? Coach was just _pissed_ that he ditched the second half…"

The blond player scratched the back of his head with a smirk on his face. "Maybe he was having some fun under the bleachers like last time. That brunette from the last party was practically trying to do him in the middle of the den. Ain't that right, Sam?"

The African-American player rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and you were pretty disappointed that didn't happen…"

Sam let out a boisterous laugh as a towel smacked him in the face. The dark haired player grinned evilly. "Johnny boy, I didn't know you liked spying on people like that. Maybe you were the one that stuck the camera in the girl's locker room…"

"SHUT UP, ALEX!" shouted Johnny in irritation as he stomped away from the pair.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Are you gonna to cry now?"

Johnny spun around and flipped him the bird. "Nature's callin'."

The other young men just chuckled while he continued on his original path. He had his fingers on his fly and was walking towards the urinals when he noticed a pair of feet still in football cleats poking out from below a toilet stall located further in the room. Johnny frowned and cautiously came closer.

"Uh, hello. Are you alr-"

Johnny's eyes widened and his mouth froze mid-sentence. His eyes became as wide as saucers and his breathing became ragged. "Yo, Johnny boy! What's up?"

Johnny's eyes were glued to the sight before him. He could not move even if he wanted to. He vaguely noticed that he had raised a hand and was pointing at the horror in front of him. Alex frowned as he walked up to his friend.

"Johnny, what the hell is wrong? What are you pointing…"

It took all but a moment after Alex's eyes focused on what Johnny was pointing at before he let out a yell of fright.

* * *

><p>Pale blue-grey eyes with flecks of green contained a glint of annoyance that was softened slightly by the soft kick in her abdomen. A hand with long, delicate fingers gently rubbed the area that her progeny had struck as it once again reminded her of its presence. The second hand was resting on her hip as Dr. Temperance Brennan let out a sigh. A frown formed on her lips before she stated her question.<p>

"Why am I here?"

In front of her lay the corpse of an early twenty-something male with ginger hair and hooded dark blue glassy eyes that still contained the residual tinges of shock that sudden death brings. His stocky, upper torso was slightly reclining against the toilet, though it was mostly supported by the lime green stall's frame. A drop of blood dripped on his already crimson stained athletic uniform from his nose and mouth, while a woman with caramel skin held a flash flight up to his face during her cursory examination. Dark purple bruises lined his neck, but that was not what stood out with the victim. It was the dark, red stain that had covered the white pants below the number seven on his shirt.

"Whoa! What happened to that guy? And what's going on below the belt, Camille?"

Both women turned to see a tall, brown haired and dark eyed man clad in a grey suit and red tie. He pushed open his suit jacket open further, exposing a bright red belt buckle with the word 'Cocky' written on it, as he placed both his hands on hips. He tilted his head to the side and squinted slightly as he started to lean forward.

"Is it true what the responding officers told me?"

Dr. Camille Saroyan's lips twitched slightly. "Well, Seeley…"

"Don't call me Seeley."

"Don't call me Camille."

Brennan rolled her eyes, though the corners of her mouth slightly tugged upwards revealed that she was not nearly as annoyed when she asked once again, "Again, what am I doing here? He's far too fleshy for me."

"Dr. Brennan, you have been explicitly requested here due to VIP interest. Meet Timothy Fitzpatrick, son of Jim Fitzpatrick."

Booth's eyes widened. "Wait, Jim Fitzpatrick. 'Power Fitz?' The Hall of Famer and Member of the House?"

Cam nodded. "The one and only. And to answer your question… Yes, it's true what the officers' told you."

Booth visibly blanched while Cam tried to hide a smirk. "Booth, what's wrong? And who is this 'Power Fitz'?"

Brennan turned concerned eyes towards her partner, before looking at a slightly amused Cam. "'Power Fitz' was the nickname of the victim's father who was a well-known football player and, as Booth already mentioned, a state representative for Virginia."

Looking over at Booth with a mixture of amusement and empathy, Cam continued. "As to why every male at this crime scene is looking a little green around the edges, I can confirm upon my initial examination that whoever killed the victim made sure that whether or not they would survive, they would not be able to have kids. Though it seems like the perpetrator took a souvenir… "

"Oh," Brennan exclaimed thoughtfully, as she slightly leaned forward to examine the victim. "That would explain the reason why the officers that secured the scene looked rather ill…"

"Bones, can you not look so interested at another guy's… you know…" muttered Booth uncomfortably.

Brennan cocked her head to the side as she turned to Booth. "I don't know-"

She suddenly stood up and walked around Booth, pulled out a black latex glove and carefully picked up an object from below the sinks. "Whoa Bones, you shouldn't be doing that. Let me help you…"

She rolled her eyes briefly as she used the sink to provide additional balance as she got up from her squatting position. "Booth, I am still more than capable even at this stage in my pregnancy to pick things up from the floor. It's ok. I am also not sure you would like to pick this item up in particular."

"Why?" Booth asked as he finally looked down at the mystery object in her hand. He grimaced as he recalled a not too distant case that involved an industrial washing machine and the evidence that determined the sex of the victim as it rolled out from the machine.

"What did you find, Dr. Brennan?" asked Cam.

Booth rubbed the bridge of his nose. "She found your souvenir, Cam."

Cam grinned. "Ok, every part is accounted for the victim. I guess you can help me bag this piece of evidence."

Booth started rubbing his temples and Brennan frowned once again. "Booth? You don't look very well."

Seeley Booth looked up at his partner before his eyes dropped to the item held in her gloved hand. He cleared his throat and gruffly declared he was fine. "I'm going to tell the guys to ship him to the Jeffersonian."

* * *

><p><em><strong>So, what did you think? Interesting, dull? Critique and criticism welcomed along with ego boosting compliments. ;-)<strong>_


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **_Alright here's part two. I appreciate the interest (based upon the story stats) as it's my first attempt at writing a more case based fic. Also a special thanks iamwriter to for the written review. Hope you all enjoy._

**STANDARD DISCLAIMER: **_**Bones**_** ain't mine. No profit gained. This is just my mentally stimulating guilty pleasure.**

**The End in the Entitlement**

**By Shinto Red**

**CHAPTER 2**

"So, this is guy that got his package-"

"Yes, Hodgins," said Cam as she gave him a pointed look while she placed a liver in a stainless steel bowl.

Hodgins' grin and amused sparkle in his eyes did not disappear even with his boss's mild reprimand or the entrance of a certain FBI agent. "Knock, knock."

The pair turned to find Booth walking into the autopsy room. "What have you got for me?"

Cam waved Booth over. "Though he has marks on his neck signifying strangulation, that's not what killed him. It looks to me like it was part of the struggle until the attacker was able to jab him here."

She lifted up the right shoulder and pointed a small puckered puncture wound located at the junction of the neck and shoulders. "Cam, do you know when the remains will be ready?"

Brennan was slightly startled to find three sets of eyes upon her entrance in the room. Booth's eyes crinkled as he gave his pregnant girlfriend a warm smile. "Hey."

"Hello…" said Brennan. The silent communication that seemed to transpire between the two started to make the other individuals in the in the room feel like they were intruding in a very intimate meeting. Hodgins' rubbed the back of his head awkwardly while Cam decided to redirect the focus of the group once again.

"Alright you two, enough of the eye thing," she smiled as she gestured to Brennan's heavily pregnant form in good humor. "That's what landed you two in this situation in the first place."

Brennan gave Cam a puzzled look. "Actually, the cause of my pregnancy was the night after –"

Booth cleared his throat loudly. "Bones…"

Cam sighed slightly though she shared a small grin with Hodgins who lightly chuckled and shook his head. "Dr. Brennan, I just finished the autopsy and I will have Mr. Bray prepare the remains for you."

Brennan nodded her head in approval while she noticed Cam's hands were still gently propping up the victim's body. "What are you doing with the victim?"

"I was just explaining to Booth some of my findings. There appears to have been a struggle between the victim and their attacker, until they were able to do this."

Temperance squinted at the small wound. "It appears to be mark from a syringe. What did the toxicology report show?"

"I'm still waiting for the toxicology results. Primary COD was a stab wound that penetrated the heart with something that does not appear to be a knife. A second weapon or tool was used on the victim to cut their tongue off, though the piece was placed back in their mouth. His nose was also broken, most likely during the struggle, on the toilet. And, of course, the cuts that removed and damaged the-"

"Damaged what?"

Cam could only wonder if there was some higher entity that was conspiring to prevent her from completing her summary on the victim. She shot an annoyed look at the tall, lanky and baby faced FBI profiler that entered her increasingly crowded autopsy room. Dr. Lance Sweets gave her an apologetic look as he walked up to the group. He stood in front of the cadaver and noted the region that Cam was still pointing at before he own skin's pallor shifted to a shade that did not look particularly healthy.

"Oh, my… the victim… is that…?"

"As I was saying, the last area that showed signs of significant trauma was genital region. The cuts look to have been done using the same instrument used on the tongue."

"And this is where I come in," said Hodgins. "Before Booth stepped, I was going to inform Cam that I found a blue fiber on his jersey that came from a _Capra hircus laniger, _also known as a cashmere goat."

"Well, the killer has taste," quipped Cam.

Hodgins smiled. "On the uniform around the fatal entry wound I found a splinter of cedar. I can also confirm that the victim's nose was broken on the toilet seat due to particulates showing fecal and urine residue on the blood around his nose and mouth. I'm sure Dr. B and Angela will figure out the exact details if he was pushed or tripped."

"Yes, and I hope to be able to start analyzing the remains this afternoon," said Brennan.

"And this is where I call over Mr. Bray and ask that everyone go off and do what they need to," said Cam as she waved her hands in a 'shooing' gesture.

"You heard the lady. Let's move," said Booth.

Sweets seemed to still be transfixed on the cadaver until Booth snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Sweets!"

Sweets snapped out of his horrified trance and jumped slightly when he finally focused on Booth's gaze. "Good thing you're coming with me. Looks like you could definitely use some fresh air."

* * *

><p>The building that stood before Booth and Sweets was a two story red brick structure with a wooden porch that contained several benches including one supported by cement blocks out front. The grass was cut, but at present was covered with strewn beer bottles, cans and other rubbish. The pair carefully walked over a broken chair and Sweets avoided stepping on what appeared to be a used condom. A police officer with salt and pepper hair standing by the entrance nodded his head in greeting. "You the FBI guys?"<p>

Booth nodded. "You guys secure the vic's room?"

"Yup. My partner's up there with your forensic guys. The frat punks are in the living room."

"Thanks."

Sweets glanced at Booth out of the corner of his eye before he tried to once again broach the topic that the FBI agent and forensic anthropologist had avoided in their prior sessions. "So… How are you and Dr. Brennan handling the changes in your professional partnership? It must be difficult-"

The movement was so sudden, but Sweets suddenly found himself walking down a hall one second and the next was yanked into another with Booth suddenly pushing himself into the young psychologist's personal space. "Sweets, let's make something clear. The only reason you are here and not some other agent until our baby is born is that you can do that human lie detector thing. Any questions you got about what Bones's is thinking, you ask her. Any questions about both of us, you ask us in those damn mandatory sessions that Cullen, Hacker and you demanded. Right now, you are here not to analyze us, but the frat boys and potential suspects. Is that understood?"

Sweets looked back at him coolly. "Well I think that it is important to discuss the situation, especially regarding the future of your-"

"SWEETS! Am I clear?"

Sweets let out a sigh and nodded while Booth pulled back and adjusted his suit jacket before walking out of the room and continuing down the hall. Sweets caught up with Booth before he reached the door. "Did you get certified at the shooting range?"

"Yes, of course. But you don't think we'll need our weapons now with a group of college boys?"

Booth glanced at him. "Not now, but you never know what can happen later."

He did not give him a chance to respond as he opened the door and found a rowdy group of frat boys tossing a football around and playing an X-Box. They were laughing and joking until Booth and Sweets made their presence known. "Alright, you know why we're here. I first need to know who was actually at the game last night?"

"We don't have to tell you anything. We did nothing wrong."

A sandy blond haired early young man with brown eyes stepped forward with his hands on his hips. He was wearing a baby blue polo shirt with its collar popped up and expensive designer jeans. A white pair of high end sneakers and a watch that neither FBI employee could imagine being able to afford, completed his ensemble and surly attitude.

"Now, Michael, these gentlemen are only trying to do their job."

Sweets and Booth turned around to the source of the voice behind them. Booth frowned at the newcomer. "How did you get in here? And who are you?"

The man, who was wearing a well-tailored suit, extended a well-manicured hand to greet the pair. "My name is Greg Hayen. You've met my son, Michael."

Booth ignored the invitation for a hand shake and focused his gaze on Mr. Hayen. "How did you get in?"

Greg plastered on a smile that did not reach his eyes as he lowered his arm. "Well, I believe as a concerned parent, I do have a right to know what is happening with my son."

"He's not a minor."

"That is correct. This is why I am here to represent the interests of my son and this fraternity, of which I am an alumnus and the local chapter's legal counsel."

Booth gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Sweets gaze flickered between the two before he decided to step in an ease some of the tension. "Mr. Hayen, I do not believe it should be too much of an issue to ask these young men what were their whereabouts last night. As you are most likely aware, a friend and member of this organization was murdered."

"I agree. There should be no harm if the boys answer that question, Detective-"

Sweets leaned forward and extended a hand. "Dr. Lance Sweets and Special Agent Seeley Booth."

"FBI?" asked Greg thoughtfully as he finished his handshake with Sweets. "True… the Fitzpatrick boy was the son of the state representative."

"May we proceed with the questioning, Mr. Hayen?" asked Sweets.

"Certainly."

Booth, who had taken the time to calm himself while Sweets handled the unwanted lawyer posed his question once again to the group. "Who was at the game last night?"

Nearly all the group raised their hands. "Okay, how many of you are on the team?"

A third from that group raised their hands. Booth nodded to himself. "What about those who are not on the team?"

A pimply faced freshman with a hint of a beer belly picked up a newspaper from behind him. "We were in the crowd the whole game."

Sweets leaned forward and grabbed the newspaper from the young man's hand. The university's newspaper front page clearly showed a color photograph of the group without their shirts and completely covered in body paint. "There's video as well… all the games are taped."

"As you can, these boys have an alibi. I do not see the need to further trouble them…"

Booth straightened himself. "The group at the game might have one, but there's still the other group that was not at the game. That includes your son."

"My son? You believe my son could have been involved? My son is in the medical school and was most probably studying for exams," scoffed the attorney.

"Why don't we let him answer that question himself," Booth enunciated each word carefully as they came out of his stiff lips. "Where were you last night?"

Michaek Hayen smirked at the FBI agent. "I was with a study group at the library last night until after midnight. We were on the first floor by the vending machine."

Booth turned to the last handful of students and barked out the same question. One student with a video game character on his t-shirt stepped forward. "I was at a LAN party playing DotA over at the computer science building. We were thirty guys together and we played all night."

Booth gave a confused look that matched Brennan's puzzled expression during her encounters with pop culture references. "DotA?"

"Defense of the Ancients. It's an expansion from Warcraft III," answered Sweets.

"You play?" asked the student.

"I used to," answered Sweets.

Booth cut further discussion on the topic when he turned to the others. Two proudly proclaimed that they were 'getting some' with their girlfriends and the last were part of an engineering study group that had also been located in the library.

Greg Hayen smoothed his tie. "Is there anything further, Agent Booth? I believe these young men deserve to get back to their regular lives."

Booth's jaw clenched as he openly glared at the blue suited lawyer. "Not quite. I have one more question, if that's not problem for _you_?"

"It depends on the question."

"I would like to know if maybe these guys would know anyone who would actually like to harm Timothy Fitzpatrick."

The group of college students looked at Greg Hayen before he gave a brief nod. Booth shifted his gaze towards the group. "Well?"

"No clue, man. Tim was awesome. Everybody loved him," said one.

"Especially the ladies," said Michael Hayen which caused a round of laughter.

Sweets eyes narrowed slightly when one of the two students who declared themselves to be engineering majors folded his arms and seemed intently interested on a piece of lint located on his shirt.

"Thank you for your cooperation," said Booth stiffly to Hayen and the fraternity members.

* * *

><p>Booth had his jaw tightly clenched, though his grip on the steering wheel was no longer white knuckled. He looked at Sweets briefly out of the corner of his eye who had been unusually quiet and frowning for most of the ride back to Hoover. "What did you see?"<p>

"I think we should look at Fitzpatrick's relationships. One of the boys reacted to what Michael said… I wish I could have talked to him."

Booth nodded while maintaining his focus on the road. "Well, we can't do anything when they are lawyered up. But we'll find a way. At least we've got something for now."

* * *

><p><strong>End of Chapter 2.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **_Hey everyone. I was out on a short trip so it made things little slow. I wanted originally perhaps to go further, but I figure it still will be ok to post what I have with this part and shift the other scenes to the next chapter. _

**STANDARD DISCLAIMER: **_**Bones**_** ain't mine. No profit gained. This is just my mentally stimulating guilty pleasure.**

**The End in the Entitlement**

**By Shinto Red**

**CHAPTER 3**

Booth looked up from his notepad at the grieving couple before. The wife, a woman in her mid-40s with the same dark blue eyes as the victim, was dressed in an elegant business suit, with her gold wedding band and a simple gold necklace as her only jewelry. Her hair was shoulder length, light brown and styled accordingly as any proper Washington D.C. wife would. Even with the evident lines of grief along her eyes and mouth, she was still a beautiful woman well passed her beauty pageant years. One of her hands fisted a slightly used tissue and was rested lightly against her lips. Her other hand was held by the much larger one her husband.

His ginger hair was graying by his ears, with flecks appearing at the top of his hairline. He strong jawline was stiff as he clenched his teeth. His broad and powerful frame was hunched over and made him appear much smaller than he actually was. Perhaps most startling, at least for Booth, was not the way the man had apparently aged overnight by at least ten years, but instead it was the broken look that replaced the proud, if not smug eyes he had seen on television only weeks ago after a successful political maneuver that he led in the lower chamber of Congress.

Booth lightly cleared his throat before continuing with his questioning. "Rep. Fitzpatrick, Mrs. Fitzpatrick… Could you think of anyone or any reason someone would be interested in harming your son?"

The Fitzpatrick shook his head. "No, no. Everyone loved Tim since he was a boy. He always had lots of friends."

"How can someone do this to my baby?" whispered Mrs. Fitzpatrick before she scrunched her eyes and started sobbing again.

Sweets gave her a sympathetic look. "We will do everything we can to solve your son's case."

She nodded her head, but she still could not stop another sob from wracking her body. "Do you know a Greg Hayen?"

Fitzpatrick looked at the pair. "Of course. Greg and I are on the alumni board and he is the attorney for the fraternity. We even played golf on occasion… Why?"

Booth rubbed his jaw lightly. "He appeared to have been slightly… defensive when I came to talk to members who were living with your son."

"Greg is a good man. He would never hinder an investigation, let alone one that affected one of the members of the fraternity. You have to understand, many of these boys, beyond being the best and brightest, are also the children of significant members of American society. I am sure he was just being protective of the other boys. This must also be a traumatic experience for them…"

Sweets and Booth briefly shared a look that neither Fitzpatrick noticed.

Fitzpatrick looked up at Sweets and Booth. "He is… God, I can't believe I have to say this in the past tense. He was my youngest, my only son."

"Your other children… Were they in contact with your son?"

Mrs. Fitzpatrick was able to compose herself to answer the question with a light sniffle. "Yes, of course. My children are always in contact with one another. They are very close."

"Would it be possible to speak with them? Perhaps they may have heard something from Timothy…" said Sweets.

"Well, Janet is coming home with to us right now with her husband. They had been on their honeymoon in Fiji…"she said with a shaky breath. "It's just… awful… things were looking brighter. Even Samantha had come for the wedding two weeks ago…"

"Samantha?" asked Booth.

Rep. Fitzpatrick answered this time. "Our eldest. We have a more… strained relationship with her. She's living in New York."

Sweets eyebrow was raised. "May I ask what is the reason for the… distance?"

Before Rep. Fitzpatrick could answer, another voice cut in. "Because I refused to be married off to some other politician's kid so that I could pretend to be the perfect wife that's just there for show and to breed the perfect family for an occasional photo op."

Fitzpatrick's face had changed to shade of red that nearly matched his hair. "You ungrateful, little-"

"Hello father, mom."

Booth was out of his seat holding out his hands in gesture showing that things should simmer down. "I'm assuming this is Samantha."

The young woman with light brown hair, freckles and green eyes like her father's answered. "You guessed right."

She turned towards her parents. "I'm going to leave in second. I just thought I'd let you know personally I will be at Tim's funeral. I know you guys forget that I was actually part of the 'official' family once, but he was still my brother and I loved him. I'll see you then."

As she went out the door, Sweets got up and followed her leaving Booth to handle the parents and try and finish the interview and questions. He was able to catch up with Samantha just as she stepped out of the front door. "Wait up!"

Samantha turned and gave him an irritated look. "What do you want?"

"I was wondering if you would be willing to talk about your brother…"

"I don't need therapy," she responded curtly.

"I'm not here for that. I am working on your brother's investigation for the FBI."

She eyed him cautiously. "FBI? You sounded like a shrink back there, just like my last boyfriend."

Sweets flushed slightly. "Well, I am. My name is Dr. Lance Sweets. I'm a forensic psychologist for the Bureau."

She gave him a penetrating gaze, before continuing her walk to her parked vehicle. "What do you want to know?"

"Were you in contact with your brother recently?" he asked while walking with her.

"No, not since the wedding a couple of weeks ago. I'd speak with him on Skype sometimes, but that's it. Our parents- more precisely, my father- had been trying to drive a wedge between us."

Lance cocked his head slightly to the side. "Why?"

She stopped as she reached the car. "Because of what I said back there… and because I was more or less disowned at 21. I dared to actually want to study and work in the field of biochemistry and not just be some cow that pops 'em out."

She sighed. "Look, I don't like shrink BS, but I'm guessing you'll need some kind of info on our family life…"

Sweets nodded. "Any information on Tim might provide some insight for the investigation."

Samantha swallowed briefly while she looked down at the car key she was rubbing in her hand. Sweets waited patiently by her side until she finally looked up at him and he was slightly surprised to see the vulnerability that had replaced the hard, angry look she had previously. Her eyes physically looked like sparkling emeralds with the unshed tears in them. She took a shaky breath before she spoke.

"I'm only going to talk about this once, for Tim, so don't ever ask me again. "

She wiped her eyes with her fingertips. "Girls are not really as valued or something to really invest in our family. Only the boys. And with my father, like my grandfather, he believes that the man is the head of the household and it's his way or the highway. So, you can figure out that he flipped out when someone, his daughter no less, told him no for once. His response was to cut me out of _everything_. Family, money, everything."

Sweets had his fingers rub his lips before asking the next question. "You said you were in college. How did you support yourself?"

She gave a bitter laugh. "That's a good question. Do you know how difficult it is to get financial aid, let alone scholarships, with my last name? I actually changed it to my mom's maiden name, Frey, to avoid some of the hassle. The thing was, I was in my last year for my undergrad in New York and I was applying for grad school. To be honest, what hurt more was how he tried to force my family to not have contact with me… My mom, she's weak… her personality. Though she did sneak in a call or two and some letters. My sister and brother, they still kept it up through IMs, emails, Facebook… That sort of thing."

Samantha ran her hands through her hair. "To answer your question as to how I survived the year and the start of my grad studies, it was because of my grandmother. She was in charge of my grandfather's estate and philanthropy activities after he died. My dad had his own money from his football career and a certain amount of cash that my grandfather left him with or without my grandmother being alive. She either had some sudden feminist awakening in her later years or she was mortified that a Fitzpatrick was living on the streets. I found out later that my sister subtly let her know my situation after she came up for a visit. She found out that I had been either couch surfing or pretty much squatting in less used lecture or storage rooms on campus for about four months. I worked part time at a bar, but, you know, rent in NYC and being denied dorms for my senior year didn't allow for much flexibility, especially with tuition fees. I had one good friend who was living in a two bedroom flat with eight roommates, who was cool enough to let me use their shower and everything so I could still be presentable."

Sweets simply nodded his head. "That must have been a difficult time for you."

"Don't analyze me, doctor. Remember, no therapy, just info."

Lance grinned at her. "Sorry, it's hard to not study people."

A ghost of a smile appeared on end of her lips. "My grandmother made sure to set up some kind of trust for me that pretty guaranteed me financial security. She also played hard ball with my dad. His re-election bid was coming up and he was having problems with some donors. He was hoping she would help…"

"What did she do?" asked Sweets.

"She changed her will and split the inheritance amongst her three grandchildren and my father. We'd have access to it after our twenty-fifth birthdays, my father immediately after her death. She also put all sorts of restrictions and trustees for different things my grandfather had. I guess the worst part that really teed my father off was when she gave him the needed finances for the campaign, on the condition that he not intimidate or force my family to not have contact with me. If he tried to back out of it, he would have to pay back everything with interest."

Sweets gave her a thoughtful gaze before her redirected his line of questioning. "How did your brother handle the tension? You mentioned your father tried to cause divisions amongst you?"

A frown marred her features. "Other than banning contact, he had started pounding in Tim's head all the time that I was some hysterical female. I'm sad to say, but Tim asked me once to just 'drop the act' and do what dad wanted. I let him have it then and a few weeks later he apologized after he saw what was happening with our grandmother. From what I heard from Janet, he was acting out by sleeping with every girl that he could find. My dad did not have an issue since he considered it as him just sowing his wild oats… He just had to make sure no one got pregnant."

Sweets let out a slow breath as his brows knitted together. The image of the engineering student at the fraternity came to his mind while he rubbed his chin briefly before refocusing his gaze on Samantha. "Did he?"

The brunette gave him a confused look. "Did he what?"

"Did he accidentally father a child?"

Samantha lightly bit her lip before answering. "I wasn't really here for this period of Tim's life. Janet was around more, but she was in boarding school. It's just…"

"It's just what?" asked Sweets with an encouraging tone.

"It was right after my grandmother did her thing and I finally came home for a visit after two years. Tim was in his last year of high school and he and my father were having some kind of huge fight that never happened before. They were in his office, so I couldn't really hear much except the raised voices, but I kept on hearing the name 'Teresa' and my father calling my brother an idiot for something he did with her… It's all I know."

* * *

><p>"You shouldn't have run off…"<p>

"Sorry Agent Booth. But I just had a feeling… I didn't want to let her slip through my fingers like what happened with Hayen," said Sweets.

"You know, you can call me Booth," said Booth as he pulled into a parking spot on the university's campus. "So, did you find out anything interesting?"

"Age… Booth, his sister mentioned that something happened when he was finishing high school. Something happened with a girl named Teresa. I'm not sure if there is a direct connection, but it is a potential lead."

Booth unbuckled his seat belt. "Could be. I'll have the guys in the bull pen check it and see what info they can find on the students who attended his high school. I'll also head back to the Fitzpatrick's tomorrow and see if I can finish my questioning."

Sweets winced. "How was it after I left?"

Booth sighed and opened the driver side door. "Bad."

Sweets got out of the vehicle and followed Booth towards the direction of the football field. "Why are we going back to the crime scene?"

"We're not. We're going to question the members of the football team not being locked away by Hayen. They were understandably freaked out that evening when we found the kid and I just want to see if any of them were friends with the guy outside of his fraternity buddies."

The high pitched shriek of a whistle pierced the air and two groups of heavily padded players tackled a row of training dummies. The pair walked up to a man in a red baseball cap and aviator sunglasses that had a clip board in his hand. Booth briefly flashed his badge to middle aged man. "Coach De Silva? I'm Special Agent Booth, this is Dr. Sweets from the FBI. I was wondering if we could ask you and a few of the players some questions about Timothy Fitzpatrick."

The coach kept his eyes on his players while he answered Booth. "Yeah, I remember seeing you that same evening. Ask away."

"What can you tell me about Tim?"

The coach sighed before turning his head and focusing on the agent's face. "Tim was generally a talented player, but not always focused on the game if you get my drift. Immature. Had a bit of a temper too. Alcohol also made him stupid."

Booth raised an eyebrow. "You witnessed him drinking? Why didn't you do anything?"

De Silva's lips were stretched thin and tight. "Because you can't touch Teflon. If he was anyone else, I'd have benched him and hauled his ass to the campus police because of how wild he could get. The problem is he's a Congressman's kid and even without that fancy title, his family's loaded and donated quite a bit to this campus. The business school is named after his grandfather."

"Who was close to him on the team?"

"The two boys who found him and number 12 over there," said De Silva as he pointed to one player who had caught a football. "You want me to call 'em over?"

Booth nodded. "Just number 12."

"Smith– Get your butt over here now!"

Sweets winced and rubbed his ears at the volume, while the young man came running towards them while he removed his helmet. " 'Sup Coach?"

His green eyes flickered briefly to the two men wearing the suits. "Is this about Tim?"

Coach De Silva nodded. "Yup, go take a walk with these guys and quickly answer their questions. I want you on the field ASAP after you are done."

The three started walking towards the bleachers. "You're… Samuel Smith? You were in the locker room the night of the murder."

Sam nodded. "That's right, I was the one who called the cops after Alex and Johnny freaked about finding… Tim. Didn't you take this down then? I mean those guys can also give you some info about that night."

"We've already spoken with the other guys at the fraternity… We're just interested in hearing your perspective on Tim," said Booth.

"What do you mean?" asked Sam.

"What kind of person was Tim? We've understood that you were friends with him."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I mean we'd go out for pizza sometimes and hung out a little. But I think the guys in his frat house were more tight with him."

Sweets shook his head. "It's fine. We just want to hear what you thought of Tim."

Sam sat down on bench by the bleachers. "Tim… Tim was a cool guy. Frat parties were his life. Had a soft spot for Jack and Coke that landed him in trouble sometimes."

"How?" asked Booth.

"He went running buck naked around campus during lunch time after one too many. He was shoutin' 'I'm the king of the world' when he went passed the dean," said Sam with a smile.

"What about a girlfriend?" asked Sweets.

Sam shook his head. "Tim didn't do the girlfriend thing. He just banged chicks. One nighters'. Even had a kind of a competition goin' with one of his frat brothers… Some dude who likes Rolexes and likes lookin' like some preppy magazine model… "

Booth's head shot up. "Was his name Michael Hayen?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's the dude. Why?"

"We've talked with him already. How was his relationship with Tim?" Booth asked with his pen poised.

"OK I guess… I mean they seemed to be cool, but there was one time he was pissed about some girl Tim was with. Looked like he was going to deck him too. And to be honest, he was acting kinda weird… He and Tim were arguing about somethin' before one practice a few weeks ago. That time Tim was pissed off. "

Sweets took a seat next to Sam. "Can you think of anyone else who may have confronted Tim in more recent time?"

Sam shook his head. "Nah, man. Tim was liked by people and he tried not to touch girls that had any guy issues."

Booth pocketed his small spiral notepad and pen. "I think we have enough information for now. I really appreciate your assistance on the case."

Sam turned to shake hands with Sweets who was next to him and then Booth. "Sure, no problem."

* * *

><p><strong>End of Chapter 3. Comments always welcomed.<strong>

***About the drinking thing - For those who may not be familiar with U.S. laws, one can only legally consume alcohol from 21 and up.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** _I hope you were not bored with the cop work Sweets and Booth had done the last chapter. If any of the science is off or complete rubbish, my apologies, but I do not hold a degree in any hard science. I just tried to briefly look up the materials to fit in with the story in my head. In any case, here's the next part and I hope you enjoy._

**STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The show is not mine. I don't make any money from this. It's just good clean fun to sustain the addicts like myself until season 7 starts.**

**The End in the Entitlement**

**By Shinto Red**

**CHAPTER 4**

Seeley Booth used one of his large palms to rub the back of his head while the other loosened his aubergine colored tie with little dice on the front. He then raised his hands slightly above his head and stretched out his stiff muscles and let out a sigh. He had been digging around the university campus the last few days and had been barely able to collect table scraps when it came to clues about either Tim Fitzpatrick or Michael Hayen.

The names of some of the girls that Fitzpatrick had bedded only resulted in short interviews where the girls had only provided him with confirmation that some had decided sleep with him out of lust and curiosity. Even those who had been naïve enough to believe that he would start a relationship with them and were left burned did not seem to hold too much of a grudge. Apparently, he was very satisfying in bed. Michael Hayen also turned up nothing. The worst reaction was when he tried speaking with the Fitzpatrick family about the Teresa girl. They completely shut him out then and told him that had nothing to do with their son. It was just one brick wall after another. It was like the coach said… Teflon.

Booth ran his fingers through his hair before he cradled his head in his hands let out a sigh of frustration. A soft knocking sound caused him to shift his position and raise his head towards the door. Sweets stood in front of him with a thin manila file in his hand and gave him a small smile.

"Please tell me you got something?" he asked.

Sweets nodded. "It took some time, but I found _the_ Teresa. Teresa Sanders to be exact."

"And? What? Did she get pregnant like what his sister said?"

"No…She had been the victim's classmate and date for prom… and he apparently had sexually assaulted her."

Booth's eyebrows went up. "Well, that explains a few things with his parents… Did she just tell you this?"

Sweets shook his head. "When I tried calling all the other Teresa's who had been students in the same high school, I stumbled across one, Teresa Richardson, who had been particularly helpful…"

Booth smirked. "A gossip?"

Sweets cracked a smile. "She was the one who narrowed my search and told me that there had been rumors about what happened between the two. Apparently, someone saw the other Teresa stumbling out of Fitzpatrick's car with her dress torn, looking rather battered and bruised. When I contacted Ms. Sanders, she at first denied eve knowing Fitzpatrick… Not surprising considering what had happened… It took a little bit of convincing on the phone, but I met with her and she was able to be more forthcoming in person to confirm the story. It seems he had been heavily intoxicated at the time when he tried to force himself on her…"

"Why wasn't he charged?" asked Booth.

Sweets let out a sigh. "Her family was paid off to be quiet about the incident. Her father's business had crumbled and her mother had been in ill health and going through serious and expensive medical treatment… The amount was large enough to entice them to take it under those circumstances."

Booth's jaw tightened. He _really_ did not like entitled rich people. Booth's thoughts were disrupted by Sweets asking him a question. "Hmm?"

"I was asking whether you found anything with you campus interviews or the databases."

Booth shook his head. "Their records are 'clean,' if you don't count them using money to wipe away their problems… The college kids did not provide me much. The best I got was one person who mentioned that there was a rumor that there were supposedly pictures or videos of the fraternity conquests, but he had nothing to back it up. And I can't just request a warrant to access their computers based on damn rumor. The few that seem to know something, they clam up. None of the girls looked like realistic suspects either."

Booth slammed his fist on his desk. "There has to be someone who knows something on that campus who will talk."

Booth got up and put on his charcoal suit jacket before adjusting his tie once more. "I'm going to pay a visit to the squints. You keep on digging and see if you can somehow find a connection between these guys and anyone else."

* * *

><p>Booth slapped his hands together loudly and quickly rubbed them together as if they were warming them up. "Alright, what did the magic of science reveal this time?"<p>

Brennan briefly glanced up from the examination table and lightly frowned. "Booth, there is no magic in science. Just facts, logic and calculations."

Booth slipped his card to access to platform while Cam rolled her eyes and Hodgins had an amused grin on his face. "Yeah, yeah. No need to start the lecture. It was bad enough when we watched _Harry Potter_ with Parker."

Brennan was poised to respond when she caught the humor in his eyes and just shook her head. Only Booth caught her attempts at suppressing the smile that was tugging at her lips before she switched to full professionalism. "I can concur with Dr. Saroyan with her initial assessment with regards to cause of death. There is scraping from the weapon that shows damage near the sternum in between the second and third rib. This would indicate that the heart was pierced. Also, based upon Hodgin's description of the material and the shape of the wound, it would appear that the victim was stabbed with a stake."

Booth snorted. "A stake? Like in vampires? Where's the garlic?"

"Booth, vampires are not real, though they do appear in several cultures mythology. Actually even until quite recently in locations such as remote Romanian villages, they still believe they are quite real and have gone to extreme measures to deal with them which have included staking the heart of a deceased individual as well as extracting, burning and consuming the ashes of the heart mixed with water."

Booth could hold off his disgust from his face. "Geez, Bones, I know they aren't real… Could you just hold off on those kinds of details until after lunch?"

Brennan gave him a confused look. "How is my explanation on the topic less gruesome than the victim's case?"

Booth scrubbed a hand over his face. "Dr. B's got you there, G-Man."

Booth shot a glare at Hodgins. "Do you have anything useful to contribute?"

"Actually I do," he said as his smile widened. "The varnish on the cedar is common with the type that is used for lawn furniture. I was to find a small metallic fragment inside the victim's underwear."

Hodgin's tapped the touch screen monitor and loaded the image file from his computer. "It's medical grade stainless steel."

Brennan's eyes immediately widened along with Cam who had caught her eyes. Booth looked on between the two in confusion. "What?"

Cam nodded her head for Brennan to proceed. "It's the tip of a scalpel."

"It would explain why the cuts were so smooth," said Cam. "It also seems to go with the toxicology results. The drug that was injected into the victim was vecuronium bromide, a muscle relaxant used in anesthesia for surgery. It paralyzes the individual injected with the substance. To be honest, the amount that was injected in him would have most likely killed him if he had not been stabbed."

Booth rubbed his chin briefly before pulling out his mobile phone. "What is it Booth?"

He looked up at his partner as he finished dialing. "We may have a suspect."

* * *

><p>Booth had an almost predatory glean in his eyes while he stared down at two generations of Hayens. Gone were the smooth and smug personas that had oozed off of both father and son. Tension seemed to roll off the pair as they sat in the FBI interrogation room. Sweets mentally noted that Michael in particular was fidgeting in his chair.<p>

"I would appreciate it if you could relay to me once again where were you on the night of the murder," said Booth as he slid his hands onto the metal table.

"I already told you. What are you, deaf? You dumb-"

Chairs scraped along the concrete floor of the cold, grey room. "Michael!"

Greg Hayen had stood up from his chair and pushed down on his son's shoulder's to prevent him from leaving. He gave his son a look of rage that might have made some grown men wet themselves, but college student just gave him a sneer before folding his arms in front of his chest and turning his head away. "Answer them."

Michael just glared at his father. He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. "I was in the library with a group of third year pre-med's from the medical school department. We were studying for a major exam in our advanced anatomy course. I was sitting with them from seven until half past midnight on the ground floor by the vending machine."

A smile curled on Booth's lips that did not reach his eyes. Sweets, who was viewing the interrogation on the other side of the glass, shuddered at Booth's expression. For all the times he had irritated the man, he was thrilled that he never cause him to give him that look. "Unfortunately Michael, that's not the whole truth, is it? You see, you study group confirms that you were gone for about 40 minutes… From nine till nine forty. When I checked with the game information, Half time started at 8:50 and ended at a 9:05."

"I went to my room to pick up a folder that I forgot."

Booth leaned slightly forward. "Or you decided to go to the field, enter the locker room after everyone else had left, jumped Tim when he was at the urinal and killed him. You then had enough time to clean up and head back."

Michael jumped up and got in Booth's face. "What crap! Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Shut up, boy!" This time the elder Hayen used more force in pushing his son down into his seat. "Do you only have stories to tell, Agent Booth, or is there actual evidence for these baseless accusations?"

"We found evidence that links someone with medical knowledge to the murder. Your son was also seen arguing with the victim a few weeks before his death."

Greg Hayen started packing his brief case. "You are grasping straws. That could have been any medical student or personnel on the campus. You don't have a case for the prosecution. And this meeting is over. Come Michael."

Booth walked out and went into the viewing room where Sweets was waiting. "He's hot tempered."

Booth nodded. "Yup, but my gut is telling me that he may not have done it. He definitely knows something."

"I agree with you. He was looking at you straight in your eyes when he denied involvement with the murder. He was very defensive with the rest of his behavior. I think we are on the right track."

"So do I, Sweets. Problem is his dad was right… We don't have anything yet to even get a warrant from Caroline."

* * *

><p>Booth smiled. He could feel her lips, as soft as petals, laying kisses along his jaw as they worked their way down to his lips. Without opening his eyes, he turned to give her a kiss on those warm and welcoming lips. It started off chaste, but slowly deepened; her lips coaxing his to open up and he let out a groan of appreciation when her tongue probed him. Long delicate fingers were slowly pulling his shirt up, but instead he gently pushed them down and started to ease the heat from the kissing. He finally pulled away with a light kiss to her forehead to wipe away the frown lines that had formed before sitting up and pulling his legs over the side of the bed and letting out a sigh.<p>

Brennan's frown only deepened as she cautiously crawled beside Booth in bed. "Booth, is everything alright? You know that the nausea has passed by this stage in the pregnancy and it won't harm the baby. We can have intercourse."

He turned his face to her and gave her a warm smile. He placed a hand on her knee and started rubbing it gently. "I know Bones. It's just this case… it's been frustrating. It's just been one step forward, two steps back."

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry. "

Booth pulled out of embrace with a confused look in his eyes. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I've not been very useful for the case. And I can't even help you in the field."

He hooked his index finger under her chin. "Hey, you couldn't help that that the guy was too fleshy."

Brennan just smiled at the comment. "You shouldn't joke about the murder victim."

"Yeah, you are right. But, we'll be back without Sweets once the baby is born, isn't that right baby?" said Booth as he dropped his head to her abdomen.

Brennan rolled her eyes, but she was wearing a smile that seemed brighter than the morning sun to Booth. "Booth, you know that our unborn child is unable to understand you."

He placed his hands gently on the sides of her stomach as he was covering a pair of ears. "Shush, how can you say that in front of the baby? "

She laughed lightly at his theatrics. "But you know what, you were wrong about not being able to help."

She tilted her head to the side, her hair spilling over her shoulder. "What do you mean?"

He raised his head and leaned in so that their lips were nearly touching. "I was being stubborn. You were trying to help earlier with this."

He closed the distance between the two and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. She raised an eyebrow though the attempt at the stern look was not quite convincing with the small smile on her lips. "Really?"

He slightly nodded before he leaned in again. "Really."

He placed a kiss behind her ear, causing her to shiver slightly. He placed delicate kiss along her neck and made his way to her other ear while he gently eased her back on the bed. His shirt had come off at some point and he was slowly relieving his partner of her own top when both their mobile phones rang. Booth groaned and Brennan threw her head back in frustration onto the pillow before each picked up their respective, and currently evil, communication devices.

"Booth."

"Brennan."

They both looked at one another. "We'll be there in twenty minutes."

* * *

><p><strong>End of Chapter 4. I thought I'd sneak in some B&amp;B action, though she will be making more of an appearance the next chapter. As always, comments and constructive criticism is always welcomed.<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** _Apparently Irish rock bands get my creative juices flowing. Please thank U2 and the Cranberries for this chapter. Whom I would like to thank is Hiitsjess for their comment. I'm glad to hear that the characters are, well, in character. I hope that I that I'll maintain it. To the rest of the readers, have fun with the next chapter,_

**STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The show is not mine. No profit is earned from my writing. It's just for fun.**

**The End in the Entitlement**

**By Shinto Red**

**CHAPTER 5**

"Bones, let me carry the case."

"Booth, are you still going to insist on this every time we go to a crime scene? Anthropologically speaking, pregnant women in hunter-gatherer societies would continue with their day to day tasks without interruption until the child was born."

"Yeah, well, we're in the U.S. of A. and not in the Stone Age."

"Actually, these types of societies can still be found today. Besides, I have trekked through malaria infested jungles, arid deserts and the mountainous regions of Central Asia carrying all my gear on my own."

"But you weren't carrying a baby on top of that."

Cam tried to suppress a smile that Hodgin's caught before she shifted into playful boss mode. "Settle down children, settle down."

Brennan gave her a perplexed look. "What children? There are no minors at the crime scene…"

"Bones, she was referring to us…"

Brennan frowned and set her case down next to the remains and pulled out gloves. "The corpse is still a bit fleshy for me."

"But it's not as fleshy as the last guy. Sure smells worse though," Booth wrinkled his nose at the cadaver located in the giant compost heap.

"Booth!"

Hodgins could not help but chuckle at the exchange resulting. "Well, the victim's name based on his driver's license from his wallet is Dale Wallis, 19."

Booth took the card from Hodgin's and looked at it. "The victim's body has gone through fairly rapid decomposition. Based on the size and development of the maggots, he couldn't have died more than 48 hours ago."

"Hey, I know this kid. It was the computer geek from the frat house that Sweets was blah blahing about some video game like Nerds of Warcraft," said Booth.

"Blah blahing are not real words, Booth. " Brennan leaned over Cam's shoulder. "It appears that compost pile and its insects, in addition to scavenging from wildlife from the edge of the forest over there, would help to explain the rapid decomposition. Furthermore, it provides an additional explanation for the dispersal of some appendages, such as the hand located next to the tree just behind Hodgins."

Three pairs of eyes looked towards the location Brennan had identified. "She's right. Thanks Dr. B, I'll let the tech guys know."

"We haven't fully dug him out yet, but it was good you noticed that, Dr. Brennan," she said as she carefully pulled the corpse shoulder up.

Booth shut his mobile phone after making a brief call to other crime scene team located at the fraternity. "So, Bones, can you go and do your thing with this guy? He's got bones sticking out."

Brennan shook her head as she started to pull off her gloves. "No, unfortunately I'll have to wait until after Ms. Wick will prepare the remains for my analysis back at the lab. I really would appreciate if I would not be called unless I'm truly needed."

Booth sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "Alright, I guess I'll give you a ride back to the lab."

He snatched her case before she could and placed a hand at the small of her back to gently direct a huffing Dr. Temperance Brennan. "Booth, I will not go into early labor if I will carry my own case."

Booth just gave her one of his smiles and kept on walking to the vehicle. He decided to not push his luck and try opening her door for her and instead opened the trunk in the back to put her kit inside. When he got into the SUV and buckled up, he noticed Brennan had her arms folded in front of chest with her facing the car door. He let out a sigh and started the car.

"Do you mind if we stop by the fraternity for a sec? I need to check in with Sweets and the crew located there."

One short nod while she still faced the window was the only indication that Brennan had heard his request. "Bones, are you going to do the silent treatment the whole ride?"

Booth suddenly spun her head towards him. "Booth, I just wish you and everyone else would stop coddling me. I am still more than capable of doing the same tasks that I have always done."

"We know that. I know that," said Booth when he looked at her out of the corner of his eyes while he drove.

"Well everyone's actions seem to say otherwise. While I certainly knew my life – our lives- would change with this pregnancy, I just did not expect everyone to walk on egg shells around me even before the physical changes were clearly visible. Suddenly, everyone is running to open every door or pick up even my tools from the tray in the lab for me."

Booth gave her a cheeky grin. "Well, that was true until you ripped everyone in the lab a new one after Sweets came and tried to be a gentleman…"

Brennan just glared at him. "I just felt that at that stage I needed to clarify some issues…"

The smile faded from Booth's face. "I'm sorry if I've been acting too much like an alpha male… It's just that I didn't really have the opportunity with Rebecca to try and do something nice or helpful during her pregnancy with Parker because… well… you know why…"

Her features softened and she placed a hand on his forearm. "Booth, I-I do appreciate what you've done- what you've been doing for myself and the baby."

"I know Bones. It's just hard for me to not be able to do something … I know I get a little overprotective at times…"

She raised an eyebrow. "A little?"

Booth rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Ok, I _might _exaggerate things at times…"

Brennan smirked at him. Booth pulled up in front of the fraternity and shut off the engine before he turned to face her. "Are we good?"

She gave him the small, shy smile that would mostly appear only around him. "Yeah…"

Booth placed a hand on her cheek before leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on it. "You don't have to come with me. I just need to pop my head and check on the tech guys and Sweets."

"Booth…"

He raised his hands in the air. "Right, right, cut back on the alpha male tendencies."

Brennan shook her head as she unbuckled herself and opened the door. Booth did the same and came around from the other side. This time the lawn in front of the fraternity house was lacking the garbage that had covered it previously. As they reached the front entrance, Booth started to speak with the same salt and peppered haired officer from the prior crime; Brennan walked around and stepped onto the creaky porch of the old brick structure.

"Hey, Bones, be careful. This porch looks like it's taken one too many punches," said Booth as he stopped talking with the police officer. "What are you looking at anyways?"

Brennan slightly bent down and took a close look at the benches. "Booth, these appear to be made from cedar. The color is similar to the splinter Hodgin's had…"

Booth laid a gentle hand on her back and leaned forward to look at the benches that stood out front. "You know, you're right. It looks like the picture he blew up on the monitor. Me and Sweets just passed by this already a couple of times and we didn't notice this at all. You're amazing, my genius squint."

Brennan just shook her head. "Though I am of above average intelligence, this was simply due to be being observant."

"Alright, we'll go inside and inform the tech guys to pack these up for the Bug Man."

"Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan. I thought I heard you two."

"Sweets, I was about to talk with you. What did you get this time?"

Sweets shook his head. "That may be less important than what was found in the victim's room. Both of you should come."

The partners followed the young psychologist into the building and up the stairs to the second floor. They passed by several doors until Sweets turned left into one of them. Wearing black coveralls and an FBI baseball cap, a CSU technician handed Sweets a plastic bag that contained a blue sweater with dark stains on it. He turned around and handed it to Brennan.

"We took a small sample to test on the spot. It's blood," said the technician.

Brennan squinted at the object in her hand. "It is also cashmere. Hogins found a cashmere fiber on the first victim."

Booth gave her a surprised look. "How can you know that without feeling it?"

"There are two reasons. The first is that the tag below the brand's name lists that this product is 100% cashmere," said forensic anthropologist.

"And the second reason?" asked Sweets.

"I believe Angela would say this one is obvious. I'm a woman," she said with a smile.

The technician let out a laugh at the looks that crossed the faces of the other two FBI personnel. Booth seemed to have their jaws hanging slightly open. Sweets recovered first and cleared his throat. "I believe we should question the group in the den to see if the sweater did indeed belong to the second victim. The sweater is too large, even if he had liked to wear baggy clothes."

Booth nodded. "Yeah, why don't you head down? I'll be with you in a sec…"

Sweets looked suspicious. "Why? If you two need to discuss anything, I can perhaps provide-"

"Sweets. You. Downstairs. Now. This conversation is private," said a heaving Booth through gritted teeth.

Brennan placed a placating hand on his shoulder. "Dr. Sweets, I think it would wise to heed Booth's request."

Sweets lips were thin and in a straight line. "Fine. I'll be seeing you two in any case tomorrow as part of our mandatory sessions."

Sweets walked away and headed down the creaky stairs. "I think we hurt his feelings."

"I don't care. Just because we are forced to sit with him, doesn't mean he can try doing his shrink thing on us outside his office."

"Well, we did give him the shock of his life when we not only announced the change in our relationship, but that we are having a child. It seemed to only encourage his desire to apply his soft science on us," said Brennan.

"Yeah, well, he's still twelve and not everything is his damn business," said Booth as he walked out of the room with Brennan on his heels.

When they went to a private corner in corridor, Brennan looked up expectantly at Booth. "Look, Bones, I'm going to have to ask you to either stay up here with the CSU guys or go back to the car."

Brennan gave him an irritated look and opened her mouth to argue, but Booth cut her off. "Look Bones, it's not only about me being an alpha male here. Part of the agreement that allows us to still be partners is that you can't be around when we question potential suspects, either in the field or in the interrogation room, until the baby is born."

"Do you really believe that the suspect is actually sitting in that room? It's not the first time I have been around members of a fraternity," said Brennan with a raised eyebrow and arms crossed over her chest. "You know, I think this is a topic that concerns Dr. Sweets."

"Bones..."

Brennan let out a sigh of defeat and lowered her arms. "What you said makes logical sense. I will wait here and make a phone call to Hodgins."

He gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thank you. I don't think it will take too long, considering how Hayen likes to shut things down."

Booth turned and walked down the narrow hallway and down the same path Sweets had gone a few minutes earlier. He found the young psychologist with his arms folded and his back leaning against the wall of the lower floor's corridor. Booth turned to him and gestured with his head to the door. "Ready?"

"Yeah, ready."

They opened the door and entered it to find the same group of boys they only saw the other week arranged in nearly the same positions. To their left stood Greg Hayen, wearing a grey pinstripe suit with shiny black shoes and a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Hello Agent Booth, Dr. Sweets."

Booth tried to school his features into a blank look as he ignored the insincere greeting and held up the evidence bag that he took from Brennan. "Okay guys, this is going to be similar to last time, except that I this. Do you guys know who this-"

"What are you doing with my sweater?" asked Michael Hayen.

Greg Hayen took a step forward as a look of alarm wiped away his smile. "Michael…"

Booths eyebrows shot up. "This is yours?"

"Of course it's mine. Why do you have it?"

"It was in Dale Wallis's room. Tech guys found blood on it. And I have say, it's not looking good for you," said Booth as he pulled out his handcuffs.

"Michael Hayen, you are under arrest-"

"Agent Booth, must you do this. I-I can bring him to the FBI," pleaded the elder Hayen while the rest of the fraternity looked on in stunned silence.

"Sorry, but I just don't trust that you won't disappear. Either you can ride with him or follow the squad car."

Greg pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from above his lips. "Can you take him without the handcuffs?"

A pale faced Michael stumbled towards the two agents. "I'll-I'll go quietly."

Booth gave both men a hard look before he grunted his acquiescence. He grabbed the younger Hayen by his shoulder and took him outside while he continued to read him his rights.

* * *

><p>The only sound in the room that could be heard was the ticking of the second hand on the wall clock mounted in Dr. Lance Sweet's office. Dr. Temperance Brennan had her hands folded in her lap, with her wrists and palms lightly touching her rounded abdomen. Booth was sitting right beside her, torsos nearly touching. His left arm rested on the back of the couch, while his right hand rested on his right knee that was bouncing up and down rapidly. Both gave the same blank and slightly bored stare.<p>

"Silence is unacceptable this session. Surely, you feel some kind of emotion due to the dramatic changes that have occurred both professionally and personally the last few months."

Silence.

"Does this mean you are satisfied with the more defined separation of your roles? Are you two ok with Dr. Brennan being primarily regulated to the lab and Agent Booth conducting the majority of his investigation with a new partner?"

"You are my_ temporary_ partner."

Sweets had to hide the smile that threatening to spill across his face. "Does this mean you are not satisfied with the current arrangement? The change in your personal relationship nearly resulted in a permanent new partner."

"To say I'm entirely happy… not really. And they were not going to split us up."

"But higher administration had been demanding this initially," said Sweets.

Booth shifted removed his arm from the back of the couch and shifted forward and slightly hunched his shoulders. "Yeah, well, it didn't happen."

Brennan placed a hand on his forearm with Booth automatically placing a hand on top of hers. "Dr. Brennan, how did you feel about what had happened as this in many ways affects the way you had been working the most?"

"Once I was aware of my pregnancy, I obviously realized that the situation would change. I knew I would most probably have limited access to some of my prior field activities, if not a complete cessation of participation while I was pregnant," she said.

"Yes, but that does not tell me how you felt about the situation?" pressed Sweets as he leaned forward in his seat.

Brennan was just staring at Sweets with the same calm mask she had had since she stepped into his office. Sweets, who had his elbows resting on his knees, let his head hang for a second in defeat and frustration. Then it came, it was so soft, so unlike her usual confident tone, that it took him a moment to realize that something had been said. "I was scared."

His head shot up to find Brennan looking down and lightly holding her stomach. Booth was looking at his partner with raised eyebrows that slowly knitted in concern. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Brennan looked up at him. "It was all just so fast… we had barely dealt with-with that night in some ways, and suddenly there were additional repercussions that could spread well beyond the unexpected pregnancy. I knew logically we could be separated permanently, but I just-just did not want that to happen."

Booth cupped her cheek. "Bones, I-I was also scared about the news."

"But you seemed so happy."

"I was- I am," he said. "Are you?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He let out a breath he had not been aware of. "It's just I was also worried about the same things. I still believed they wouldn't split us up, but there was still a small part of me that was insecure. "

He ran a hand through his hair. "I guess we both should have said something sooner."

Sweets wore a broad smile as he tapped his lightly tapped his fingertips together. "This was a nice breakthrough."

The partners on the couch nearly jumped when they realized they were not alone. The two pulled away with Brennan folding her arms over her chest and Booth placing both his hands on his knees. Sweets smile wilted slightly. "You do not have to be embarrassed about showing any affection, especially here. Remember – the 'Zone of Truth.'"

"So we should be affectionate like you were on this couch with Daisy?" asked Booth with a wicked glint in his eye.

Sweets turned beet red. "I hope you had this professionally cleaned. It would otherwise be rather unhygienic for your patients to sit on it."

"You're right Bones. But the kid is twelve so he probably didn't think about that."

Brennan's phone rang. "Brennan."

Sweets was thankful for the respite while Booth waited patiently for Brennan to finish the call. "That was Ms. Wick informing me that that the bones are ready. She also mentioned there were some results from Hodgins and Cam."

At hearing 'Ms. Wick' Sweets felt the burning heat spread to the tips of his ears. "I'll give you a ride Bones."

Brennan nodded and got up from the couch and slung her purse over her shoulder. Booth already had his hand on the small of her back leading her to the door. He looked back over shoulder. "Hey Sweets, you coming? Or do you need time to stop looking like a tomato. You're working the case too."

At Booth's comment, Sweets turned scarlet. "I-I'll meet you guys there."

Booth shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself."

At the sound of the click of the door shutting, Sweets leaned his head back on his chair and let out a groan. He sighed and got up heading back to his desk to pull out the files he was going to take with him to the Jeffersonian when there was a sharp knock on the door. One of the lower ranking agents from the bull pen popped their head in. "Dr. Sweets? I was wondering if you have some time right now."

"I am actually heading out to the Jeffersonian. You can schedule a meeting with my secretary."

The young field agent shook his head. "It's not for me. It's for him."

He pushed open the door further to reveal a younger man, really more of a boy, with insecure dark brown eyes. "I'm-I'm David. David Kim."

Sweets put down the folder in his hand and strode across the room. "I'm from the fraternity…"

"I remember. You were the engineering student. Please, sit down."

* * *

><p><strong>End of Chapter 5. Comments, critique, criticism always welcomed.<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: **_I was hoping to get this out sooner, but life caught up with me. I kept the file open as a means to get me to finish the pages that I had already written. I'd like to give a little shout out to Megan for her kind words. I should also mention that this will be the less pleasant chapter that my warning in the summary alludes to. _

**STANDARD DISCLAIMER: **_**Bones**_** ain't mine. No profit gained. This is just my mentally stimulating guilty pleasure.**

**The End in the Entitlement**

**By Shinto Red**

**CHAPTER 6**

Temperance Brennan stepped into her office and placed her purse on the shelf behind her desk. She pulled on the plain blue maternity sized lab coat that had replaced her original embroidered one, carefully buttoning each of the buttons in the front. Slipping her hand inside of the left pocket, she pulled out a simple black hair band and pulled up her hair in a messy ponytail as she walked right back outside the door.

She pulled out her Jeffersonian pass and swiped it through the platform card reader resulting in the familiar beep. Booth turned his head back and gave her a smile which she returned. They would have held their gaze a bit longer had Dr. Hodgins not pulled her back to reality.

"Hey Dr. B. I can confirm that would from the benches is the same type as the splinter. More precisely, this bench," said Hodgins as he pointed to one broken bench that was placed on its back. "The splinter and the stake were from the rest of this corner leg."

She nodded her head in approval. "And the sweater?"

He gave her a smile. "The fiber definitely came from the same sweater."

"And the blood stains came from both victims," said Cam as she held up a manila folder in one hand and slide the card through the reader with the other. "Also, based on what was left of the flesh on the second victim, it looks to be a nearly identical MO as the first victim."

"Looks like you've got your killer, G-Man," said Hodgins.

Booth's mouth was drawn in a thin line and his brows furrowed. "Did you find anything else?"

"Just Michael Hayen's DNA in the form of skin cells that Hodgin's found," said Cam with a frown of her own forming on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Not sure, Cam. When I first questioned him… My gut is just telling me it's not him. Even Sweets got the same vibe with his human lie detector thing… Speaking of the kid, where is he? He was supposed to meet us…"

"Though even I will admit there have been incidences where your 'gut' has been correct, the science is pointing towards Michael Hayen," said Brennan. "As for Dr. Sweets, perhaps he is still embarrassed due to the conversation we had."

"What conversation?" asked Cam with a raised eyebrow.

Booth waved his hand dismissively, a frown still marring his features. "It doesn't matter…"

Hodgins took a step towards Booth. "Hey, if you want, I can try taking a look once again at the sweater. See if we maybe didn't miss something."

Booth rubbed a hand over his chin and mouth and nodded. "I'd appreciate it. Thanks."

"No problem, G-Man."

Booth turned to Cam. "Who's handling all the computer stuff we collected from the Wallis kid?"

"I am, Studly," said a familiar voice from behind.

Booth spun around and Brennan let a bright smile spread across her face. "Angela! You didn't tell me you were back from maternity leave."

"Hey Bren," said Angela as she swiped the card through the machine. "I actually still have another few weeks left, but Cam asked me to help out with this case because of the amount of techno toys the last victim had in his room."

Booth gave her a hug. "You look great, Ange."

"You don't look so bad yourself, Daddy Booth," she said with a wink.

"We're still in the easy part. We'll see how great I'll look after the baby is born," said Booth as he recalled Parker as an infant.

"Oh, don't I know it," said Angela as she leaned into Brennan's side to give her a quick hug. "I thought some of our cases ate away at my sleep, but Michael's lungs win hands down."

"Where is Michael?" asked Brennan.

"At daycare. He was first in my office, but as soon as I saw and, well heard, sometime of the content I was pulling off the victim's computer, I felt better putting him there."

Brennan frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that kid takes 'having sex on the brain' to a new level. He had all kinds storage media just filled with porn," she said while shaking her head. "No one would ever say I'm a prude, but there were some stuff that went beyond my comfort zone."

Booth's eyebrows were raised. "Did you find anything else?"

Angela shook her head. "Nothing interesting. His second and third obsessions seem to be computer games and Japanese animation. The problem is there is still quite a bit to sort through the next few days, even with my programs, due to the various security settings he used on his system. I'm just glad I don't have to touch his keyboard and mouse."

Booth and Hodgins grinned at her last comment. "Hey guys!"

"There you are Sweets. You get lost in Hoover or something?"

Sweets shot Booth a dirty a look. "Someone paid me a visit, Agent Booth."

"The tooth fairy?"

Sweets swiped his own card through the platform's card reader and glared at the amused FBI agent. "David Kim."

"Who?" said Booth with a confused look.

"The engineering student."

Booth, who had been leaning against the railing, quickly stood straight. "You mean the kid you noticed with the Fitzpatrick questioning?"

Sweets nodded. "He came to my office just when I was leaving and gave me some very interesting information."

Sweets pulled out a portable external hard drive and a folded piece of paper. "Hey Angela. Are you back from maternity leave?"

She nodded. "For this case, yes."

"Then this is for you," said Sweets as he handed the items to her.

Booth's brows furrowed. "What's that, Sweets?"

"Passwords, information on specific hidden folders, and backup of server and video material."

"What do the videos and website contain?" asked Booth.

"Remember that rumor you heard, about a website or server that the fraternity had on their conquests…"

Booths eyes widened. "Does Hayen know?"

Sweets shook his head. "Why is the kid coming forward now?"

Sweets lips were twitching as he tried to maintain a stoic mask of professionalism. "Catholic guilt."

Booth shot him a glare while Sweets raised his hands in front of him. The other squints had amused smiles on their faces. "Hey, I'm telling you what the guy told me. He was getting ulcers and he couldn't sleep at night. He said he still had the screams in his head. After he went to confession a week ago, he said he realized what he needed to do."

The glare was replaced with concern. "Screams?"

"He told me we'd understand more once we'd see the video. That everything is there…"

"Ok then…" said Angela. "I'll take a look at the stuff then and let you know what I find."

* * *

><p>The group chatted and lightly fidgeted after being called into Angela's office. Angela turned to Sweets while she turned on the large touch screen monitor in her office for the others. "Did the guy hack Wallis's system?"<p>

Sweets nodded and Booth looked at him in surprise. "He's minoring in computer science. "

Angela smiled. "I think he needs to switch majors. He included his own mini program to automatically sift through the various layers of security the victim had in place on all his systems, in addition to creating automatic global VPN access to the university system and the fraternity's own network. "

Her smiled slipped from her face when she opened a tab at the bottom of her screen. "This is a website on the fraternity's network." The first website showed a bright red title 'The Campus Ladies – After Dark,' with an image of a young female co-ed with hooded, glazed eyes laying in a state of partial undress on someone's pillow. Booth had a cold look in his eyes while he stared at the screen.

"Ain't that classy," said Hodgins in sarcasm.

"Oh, we haven't gotten to the best part yet," said Angela as she gestured with her hands towards the large touch screen monitor in her office. "These boxes all contain video of girls that the Fitzpatrick, Hayen and Wallis have slept with. It's mostly the first two guys."

Sweets folded his arms. "I doubt the videotaping was known by the female party, but were the acts at least consensual?"

Angela lips were in a straight grim line while she shook her head. "No, not all from what I've seen so far. Some girls looked pretty out of it, especially the ones Hayen and Wallis slept with. I don't know if they were plastered or on roofies . It looks like they would do this at their parties because of the loud music when they'd open the bedroom door and the beer that's usually in someone's hand. "

Angela opened one file that showed Wallis grunting away while an unknown brunette was lying listlessly with her glazed, unfocused green eyes nearly facing the camera directly. Cam shook her head in disgust. "I would really like to use another word right now, but I think I'll stick with pigs."

Brennan, sharing a similar look, nodded in agreement. "While the colloquial term is not an accurate description of this intelligent domesticated animal, I agree with Cam's sentiment and use in this instance."

"Yeah, well, the one David specifically directed me to makes me want to reconnect with my morning sickness during my pregnancy," Angela said as she clicked open the next video. "No wonder he went to confession."

Angela minimized the webpage and opened up a video she had placed on her own computer. "The one that appears on the website was edited in such a way that you never see the girl's face, with the sound being covered with some cheesy 70s porn music. This is the original file that was hidden deep within the server. I touched up the sound on it as the guys also put the music loud in the room in an attempt to cover the conversation… and screams."

Angela clicked open a file and expanded it for full screen viewing on the large screen monitor.

_Tim Fitzpatrick opened the door to his room and entered with a giggling, strawberry blond that came stumbling in afterwards. Clothing seemed to disappear quickly, leaving Fitzpatrick without his shirt and the nameless young female just in her undergarments within a few moments. Fitpatrick was nibbling on the girl's neck when the door was slammed open. The ginger haired females struggled to pull away from Tim's grip, but he held onto her while Wallis snapped photographs and Hayen shined a light into her face from a flashlight he held. _

"_You think you can try and ruin my medical career," said Michael Hayen with sneer. "I'm going to ruin you and show everyone what kind of slut you really are."_

_Wallis leaned in for more photographs of the girl was still struggling to get out of Fitzpatrick's grip. At some point he let go and she stumbled out of the bed, trying to gather her clothes and put them on. Hayen pulled the garments from her arms and abruptly slapped her, knocking her down. Her eyes are wide and frightened as he grabbed her shoulders roughly and shoved her back on the bed. Her hand shook as she gently raised it to touch the nasty welt that growing on her face._

_Ftizpatrick climbed out of bed and shoved Hayen roughly. "Hey, man, what is this BS! I thought we were just doing pictures. You don't hit girls."_

_Hayen let out a harsh, cold laugh. "Really? Bet your prom date would disagree."_

_Fitzpatrick blanched and quickly shifted to tomato red. "I don't know how you found out, but I was really drunk and stupid that _one_ night. I have _never_ done something like that to a girl again."_

_Behind the arguing pair, the young female tried to sneak out, but Wallis stepped in to block the door. Hayen brushed past Fitzpatrick and grabbed the girl again and pulled her back to the bed. _

"_Let me go!" she finally shouted._

"_Dude, let the girl go. Enough already!" said Fitzpatrick._

_Hayen let go of the girl and suddenly swung his right fist towards Fitzpatrick. The anonymous female tried to shout out a warning but it was too late. Michael's fist connected with Tim's jaw. It had not been a hard hit, but it caused him to lose his balance and slam the back of his head against a book case with a loud 'crack.'_

"_Holy cow, dude! Is he even alive?" asked Dale Wallis from his position from the door. _

_Michael stepped forward laid his index and third finger against the football player's pulse point on his neck. He opened one of his eyelids. In response Tim groaned slightly, but did not regain consciousness. "He's fine. Just knocked out cold. He'll probably have a nasty headache, but that's it."_

"_What about the girl?" Dale asked as he pushed his glasses up his nose._

_She had sat frozen throughout the scuffle and now turned her wide bright blue eyes towards the sandy blond fraternity who was eyeing her with a predatory gleam in her eye. "You know, I think we can finish what Timmy started."_

_A slow lazy smile curled on the other student's lips. "You're right. She was anyways hot and heavy with him a few minutes ago. Bet she's still wet too."_

"_No! What are you saying? Let me go!" she screeched._

_Michael nodded his head towards Dale who turned up the dial on Fitzpatrick's speakers, which had been playing low music in the background. The girl tried to make a run for the door but she was caught and slapped again by Hayen. He shoved her towards the bed and started unbuttoning his jeans and lowering his fly as walked towards her. Her begging shifted to screams of agony soon after._

Sweets averted his gaze along with Angela who already knew what was happening and had no desire to have an encore visual experience. Hodgins flinched. Cam looked grim and Brennan, with her flished cheeks, was absolutely seething. Booth, on the other hand, was downright frightening. As Brennan turned her head to try and catch his gaze, all she could see was cold quiet rage directed at the monitor.

She took a step towards him and placed a gentle hand on his forearm. He whispered it, but it could be heard by all the others in the room. "I am going to nail that son of a bitch to the wall."

* * *

><p><strong>End of Chapter 6.<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** _Hey everyone. Sorry for disappearing a little, but life caught up with me. I'm keeping it short up here because I realized I had a rather long note. So, have fun reading and if you are still interested in my rambling thoughts it's located at the end. _

**STANDARD DISCLAIMER: **_**Bones**_** is HH's and Fox's property. I don't earn a dime. This is just for fun and to satisfy my **_**Bones**_** addiction until November…**

**The End in the Entitlement**

**By Shinto Red**

**CHAPTER 7**

Booth opened the door to the interrogation room and casually walked up the metal table located in the center of the room. A television had been set up next to the table facing the two way mirror that Sweets was observing from the other side. Sitting at one side of the table were the Hayens. The younger of the two had his hair lightly spiked and his designer black sunglasses resting atop his head. His legs were slightly spread, but his arms, as Sweets mentally noted, were folded tightly across his chest. The final signal of his insecurity and discomfort came from his slightly hunched over back. His father, on the other hand, was better at masking his emotions. His suit was impeccable as always, his posture relaxed. The crack in the façade was when he noticed how Greg Hayen kept on tapping his pen on his notepad as if he were signaling in Morse code.

His eyes switched to Booth when he pulled back the chair on the opposite side of the table and calmly sat down. He tossed the file onto the table, opened it and shifted through the papers. He appeared to be completely ignoring the pair in front of him. Michael frowned and rolled his eyes. His knee was bouncing up and down in either impatience, anxiety or both. Sweets realized that he had missed Booth's eyes; the flash of anger, disgust and his own inner predator peeking out when he had glanced at the pair after he entered the room.

Booth finished organizing the papers from the folder in front of him and suddenly looked up at Michael. "Have you ever had an argument with either one of the deceased just before their deaths?"

"No."

Booth shook his head. "Michael, I think you are holding out on me. I have an eye witness who saw you and Fitzpatrick arguing a few weeks ago. They said it almost became physical."

Michael snorted and folded his arms across his chest. "Your 'witness' is lying."

"I don't know, Michael," said Booth. "They said you were fighting over a girl."

"Agent Booth-" said Greg Hayen as he attempted to redirect the conversation.

Booth ignored the lawyer and pick up what appeared to be a white document until he tossed it on the table in front of Michael. It was quickly revealed to be a blown up photograph from one of the videos on the website showing Michael in bed with a girl.

"Were you guys arguing about her?"

He pulled out another photograph and slid it across the table. "Or her?"

"Or maybe…," said Booth as he gently laid the photograph of the mystery strawberry blond on the table on top of the others. "… It was her?"

Michael's hands seemed to feel like lead for him as they instantly dropped to his sides, along with his jaw. Greg's chair screeched across the floor and his hands slammed onto the cold metal surface in front of him.

"What is this? Is this some kind of joke? How dare you put surveillance on my son like this!"

Booth gave him a cursory glance before he grabbed the remote nearby and clicked on the television set in the room. "These did not come from our guys, isn't that right Michael?"

Greg's head whipped around to his son, a strand of hair coming loose in front of his eyes. "What is he talking about, Michael?"

The younger Hayen averted his gaze from his father and seemed intensely focused on his shoes. "Mr. Hayen, your son and the two victims liked to capture their… conquests and share them with their fraternity brothers on a website. Some things they were just a little shy about though."

He clicked once again with the remote and the DVD started playing. The screen projected the scene with the Venetian blond and her ocean blue eyes. Greg's knees gave out on him. Michael was trying to look at anything in the room rather than what was being played on screen or at his father.

"Enough," Greg was able to choke out as he raised a shaking hand to his face.

Booth folded his hands in front of him on the table and focused a hard gaze at Michael. "Can't even look at what you did. It's difficult for you, huh? Bet it was worse for the girl. Who is she, by the way?"

Michael just looked at the top of the table in front of him. "Doesn't matter, we'll have her name soon enough."

Booth's prey just squirmed in his chair. "So, did you kill them because they both had a change of heart?"

Michael's head snapped and stared directly at Booth. "I did not kill Dale or Tim."

"That's not what the blood on your sweater is telling us. We have booth victims' blood and your DNA on that sweater."

Michael's hands slapped the table. "I did not kill them."

Booth smoothed his tie. "I get it, you needed to get rid of a problem. It's like what you said to the girl. You don't let anyone mess with your career."

Michael stood up and got in Booth's face. "I am NOT a murderer!"

"You're just a rapist instead," said Booth as he looked coolly into his eyes.

He pulled away from Booth as if he had been slapped and sunk back into his chair. Booth got up and pulled out his hand cuffs and started to read him his rights.

* * *

><p>Sweets clicked his seat belt into place and turned to the older man on his left who was sitting behind the wheel. Booth glared at the younger man and sighed. "Sweets, I know you've wanted to say something to me the whole time since I came back from processing Hayen."<p>

"And you have been avoiding me, Agent Booth, all the way to the car."

Booth's knuckles turned white on the one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other started the ignition. "Because I know what you are going to say. And it pisses me off that I agree."

"That Michael Hayen, though despicable and vile, is not a responsible for the mur-"

"Don't, Sweets."

The young psychologist brows knitted together. "Preventing me from expressing what we both think on the topic won't make the issue go away."

"I know that. It's just the squinty stuff shows otherwise. And that's what holds up in court."

Sweets raised an eyebrow. "Do you except that? Are you willing to allow a man to be convicted of a crime he did not commit?"

Booth glared at Sweets before he slipped on his sun glasses and signaled that he was pulling out of his parking spot. "No, Sweets. But there is nothing we can do until the evidence says otherwise."

Booth rolled back his shoulders. "He's scum, a rapist, but not a killer."

Sweets focused on the road in front of them. "What are we going to do about it?"

"We are going to hunt for more evidence, or at least information," said Booth.

"What do you mean?"

Booth briefly glanced at Sweets. "Angela called while Michael was going through processing. We have the girl's name."

* * *

><p>Three firm knocks and a pair of cautious light brown eyes appeared in front Booth and Sweets. Booth flashed his badge. "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth and my associate Dr. Lance Sweets. We are looking for Anya Volker."<p>

The women, who looked to be about twenty five, looked up at them knitted her brows together. "My roommate? What's going on?"

Sweets stepped forward. "Is she home? We need to speak with her directly."

"Yeah, she's home. One sec."

A few moments later, a pair of familiar ocean blue eyes were now focused on the two FBI personnel. Her Venetian blond locks were tied up in a loose ponytail. "Um… may I help you?"

Booth held out his badge once again and repeated his previous introductions. "We're here because it has come to light during the course of an investigation we've been working on that you were a victim of a crime."

She paled slightly. "I'm... I'm not sure what you mean…"

Sweets gave her a sympathetic look. "I think you do. It was at the fraternity…"

She visibly seemed to shrink and gripped the door hard. Her breathing became shallow and labored. "Um… I…"

"You are suffering a panic attack. Close your eyes and try taking slow, deep breaths. Yes, that's it..." said Sweets.

"What did you do to her?"

Sweets blinked to find that he was facing a pair of angry brown eyes. He nearly stumbled backwards, but regained his balance at the last minute. The roommate, who initially answered the door, had stepped in front of Anya.

"She was suffering from a panic attack. I am psychologist and I was just trying to calm her down," said Sweets in a soothing tone.

"Well, you've obviously triggered it," she said as her nostrils flared. "What did you say to her?"

Booth stepped forward. "Miss…?"

"Barker. Deborah Barker. And it's Ms."

Booth started again. "_Ms._ Barker, we were just asking Miss Volker some questions about a personal matter. She suffered a little panic, but that's all. Now, I would appreciate it if you would give us some privacy so that we may continue our conversation."

"Like hell you will. You're obviously making things worse for her. Don't you know what she's been through?"

Booth gritted his teeth and breathed in heavily through his nostrils. He was just fed up and tired with the people he had to deal with in this case. "Ma'am, I should remind you that you are potentially interfering with a federal investigation."

Deborah glared at Booth and started to speak, but was interrupted by a soft breathy voice behind her. "It's… It's ok, Debbie. I'm fine now."

Three pairs of eyes focused on the person standing beside the door. "She can sit with us. Uh… she knows…"

"Please come in," said Anya as she gestured with her hands.

Deborah tossed Booth another dirty look before she spun around on her heel and entered the apartment. Booth looked at Sweets who just shrugged and they both walked in and followed the angry young female into the living room. A deep yawn caused Sweets and Booth to turn their heads towards another door that lead into the living room. A tall, broad shouldered man wearing a black t-shirt with a golden phoenix on the front stood in the door frame bare footed. He raised his well-toned arms and tied his long black hair up in a ponytail.

"Um, Debs, what's up? Who are the suits?" he asked.

"They're here because of what happened with Anya," said Deborah and caught Anya's arm. "Anya, where are you going?"

Anya blinked in surprise. "To bring some coffee."

Deborah shook her head. "I'll get that."

"Who are you?" asked Booth.

The man's eyes which initially had been sleepy and carefree had darkened upon the mention of Anya's case. "I'm Neal Ramos, Debs' boyfriend. But I've known Anya since she was a kid. We were neighbors and her older brother and I are friends."

Booth pulled out a notepad. "What do you do?"

"Med school. Starting to make rotations."

Booth and Sweets sat down on a couch that was next to the loveseat Anya was sitting in. Neal just leaned against a nearby wall with his arms folded. Booth gave Anya a questioning look. She nodded her head.

"He can also stay."

Booth opened his mouth to start his first question when his mobile rang. He apologized and politely excused himself to the hall. "Booth."

Sweets could see his face from the angle he was sitting. The FBI agent's face went from calm to a scowl within a few seconds. "What do you mean he's out?"

Booth lowered his voice when he caught Sweets concerned gaze. "Caroline… I know… Alright… I need to go. Bye."

Booth ended the conversation and slipped his phone back into his pocket . He started to walk back into the living room when he nearly collided with Deborah who was carrying a tray from the kitchen.

"Whoa, sorry."

Booth gestured with his hands that she could go first and she muttered and apology of her own. She prepared the cups around the table and Booth eased back into his seat beside Sweets. Booth couldn't help smiling as he recalled memories of prior interviews with Bones. Not everything was pleasant, but the various experiences were made easier with her by his side. Of course, now he was doing it with the kid. He let out a wistful sigh and pulled out his notebook and pen out once again.

"Why don't we start with a little information about yourself," asked Booth softly recalling the earlier panic.

The girl gave a brief nod. "Well, I was a biomedical grad student-"

Sweets cut in. "Was?"

"I-I'm currently taking a break because of… well…"

Sweets nodded and encouraged her to continue. "I was teaching the laboratory section of the advanced biochemistry course for the pre-med students. I-I'd also grade some of the exams and sometimes give lectures in place of the professor with another grad student when he'd go to conferences or was sick. Michael Hayen was in the course. He didn't too well on the midterm and some of his lab assignments. He went to complain, but the professor sided with my decisions."

Deborah slid next to her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. Anya gave her a grateful smile before she continued. "Several weeks passed and everything was normal. It was just after finals finished last semester that I had a friend convince me to join her at this party at the fraternity… She was an undergrad, but we were the same age. I had finished my undergrad degree early…"

She stopped to take in a few deep breaths and Booth gave her a sympathetic look. "I had had something to drink, but not a lot. A little tipsy, a slight buzz. I-I was hanging around in the corner, more watching people… And then he came, Tim, and he just started flirting with me. And we were talking. Everything was nice. We drank some more and things started to get more interesting. I had heard he was good, you know, in bed from several people… And it was the end of the year and I thought, why not?"

Deborah held one of Anya's hands. "We-we went up to a room and things progressed and-and suddenly Michael Hayen and this nerdy guy, I think Dale was his name, came into the room… And there was fighting and then… and then Michael and Dale… they…"

At this point she was crying too hard to continue and Deborah took her into her arms and rubbed her back. Sweets looked up behind the two women and noticed the clenched jaw and fists of Neal who had not shifted from his position. He caught Booth's eye who also noticed the same thing. When Anya calmed down enough, she continued with her story. Everything matched up with the video.

"What happened after the assault?" asked Booth.

Anya wiped some tears from her eyes. "I-I gathered my clothes. And they- they laughed at me. I stumbled out and tried to find my friend… I couldn't find her. I somehow ended up outside the building and wondering around like a zombie. Neal was coming back from the hospital after a late night there and he found me and took me back there. They did all the tests, they had used condoms so there was no semen… They called campus police and took down my details, but then nothing happened."

"Nothing happened?" asked Booth with a frown.

"The university swept the whole thing under the rug. Refused to deal with the matter because these guys were kids of important donors. We tried with the municipal PD, but it was also hushed there," said Neal with a look of disgust as the anger appeared to just radiate off of him. "One of them tried to give her a check, as if he could pay her off."

"It was just frustrating. We tried to tell them there were pictures and maybe even video," said Deborah while Sweets briefly made eye contact with Booth.

Booth straightened his tie. "Where did you hear that?"

"I had one friend from my faculty, who specializes in computational mathematics and is teaching some undergrad computer science courses, said he overheard Dale bragging about some kind of video collection of fraternity members that he set up for the house," said Deborah.

"Are you studying computer science?" asked Booth.

She shook her head. "No, mathematics with a little emphasis on economics."

"May I ask, but why are you questioning me about this? Does this have to do with what happened to Tim?" asked Anya after she collected herself.

"Maybe. We are still investigating the Fitzpatrick case and had information come in about your assault," said Booth.

"Does that mean you are going to try the others?" asked Deborah cautiously.

Booth and Sweets looked at one another. "What?"

Neal pushed off the wall. "That body they found two days ago is one of the other guys, isn't it?"

Sweets nodded. "The name will be released today so we can disclose the information. It was Dale Wallis."

Anya was staring at the FBI personnel with wide eyes. "What about Michael?"

Sweets looked at Booth who nodded. "This information is also being released today. Michael Hayen has been arrested regarding the two cases, in addition to your case, if you are willing to testify."

"Of course," said Anya.

Booth cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "Actually, he's out on bail."

Sweets looked at Booth in surprise. "It was Caroline that called earlier."

He turned to the three. "He had his passport taken and there will most likely be some kind of detail watching him."

"How can he be out?" asked Deborah in outrage.

"The judge ruled against the prosecution's request to deny bail," said Booth as the vein by his temple slightly bulged.

Anya leaned forward placed a hand on top of Booth's. "It doesn't matter that he got bail. I'm just grateful that my voice is going to be heard."

Deborah snorted. "He still might go free."

Booth focused his gaze on the cynical young woman. "Let me assure, Ms. Barker, that I will do everything in my power to not let that happen."

* * *

><p><strong>End of Chapter 7.<strong>

_**My AN continuation for those who are interested:**__ I guess first off, thanks for the interest. This had already occurred a chapter or two back, but I had reached the 1000+ mark of individuals who actually checked out my fic. Very cool._

_Second, I guess I'll respond to the reviews left for the last chapter. I appreciate the comment that you left, mendenbar. I was honestly having some troubles writing out the section the last chapter. I wasn't sure how far to go due to the limitations of the rating I chose, and at the same time still keeping the level of violence on par with what would be aired on the show. If I write something like this again, I'll try to for a different rating next time. Maybe that will help. Also thanks for the kind words of encouragement from Rouzwud and Megan once again. Next chapter will hopefully come out quicker. Cheers everyone._


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: **_We've reached the end of the line, folks. I'd like to give one last shout out to __QueenoftheLab96_. _You made my day when you mentioned that it felt like the show's structure. I was hoping to capture it, so yeah, many thanks. Also would like to thank all the others who took the time to review once again and, of course, a big thank you to everyone else who have stuck with my fic from the beginning until now. Well enough of me rambling. Go on. Read. ;-) _

**STANDARD DISCLAIMER: **_**Bones**_** ain't mine. No profit gained. It's all just for fun.**

**The End in the Entitlement**

**By Shinto Red**

**CHAPTER 8**

One long, elegant index finger and thumb quickly nabbed a helpless fry located near the edge of the plate. It was quickly dipped into the ketchup conveniently located nearby, before it landed in between the pink lips of a certain anthropologist where it was consumed.

"Bones, get your own," said Booth in mock annoyance.

Brennan just gave him a cheeky grin before she nicked another fry off of his plate. "Why should I do that? You are not eating them anymore."

"Because…"

"That's neither an extensive nor descriptive reason," said Brennan in a matter-of-fact tone. "Besides, I believe you actually enjoy that I consume your fries."

Booth tried to keep a straight and stern looking face, but his lips were trying to betray him with the slight twitching on their corners. "Why do you say that, Bones?"

Brennan took a third fry off his plate. "Because… your eyes follow the path the fry takes."

She took a bite. "And you your pupils tend to dilate as soon as it reaches my lips. I believe it signifies arousal or at minimum an interest in kissing me."

"Really?" said Booth as his as eye remained glued to her mouth and subconsciously started to lean forward.

Brennan smirked in satisfaction as she noted that Booth seemed far more focused on the way her tongue had poked out to lick off some ketchup that had landed on the corner of her mouth, than what she was actually saying. "Yes, really."

She also shifted her body forward and laid a light kiss on Booth's lips. "You know, Dr. Brennan, I think you might be right. On both accounts."

Booth felt Brennan smile into the next kiss before he lightly teased her with his tongue. The sound of someone clearing their throat caused the two to separate. An amused waitress placed Booth's pie in front of him with a wink. Booth nodded his head and gave her his charm smile. The woman just laughed as she walked away.

Booth looked over and found Brennan had a small smile of her own, though she still had a light flush on her cheeks. He picked up his fork to dig into his dessert, when his phone rang. He placed the utensil back on the table and pulled out the device from his pocket and flipped it open. "Booth."

Brennan watched as Booth's brows knitted together and his eyes shifted to harsh anger. "Seriously, Caroline, you've got to stop giving me these types of calls. Yeah, I'll be there in fifteen."

Booth flipped the phone shut. "Damn it."

"Booth, what's wrong?" asked Brennan with concern in her eyes.

"Michael Hayen's gone missing."

* * *

><p>Booth's tie hung loose around his neck and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He leafed through the file in front of him and took a sip from the mug beside him. He wrinkled his nose and pushed the cold liquid away. His eyes did not leave the papers in front of him when there was a knock on his office door.<p>

"Sweets, did they confirm the blood found next to Hayen's car was actually his?"

A familiar feminine voice responded. "They did, Studly."

Booth's head shot up. "Angela, what are you doing here?"

"I can always leave," said Angela with a grin as she adjusted her arms to cradle her son more comfortably.

He let out a sigh. "Sorry, I didn't mean to…"

Angela just shook her head. "No, it's alright. Things are just a little stressful right now."

"That's putting it mildly," said Booth as got up from his desk and walked up to Angela and held out his arms for the child. "Hey there, Mikey."

Angela handed him her son with large smile plastered on her face. "Idf you offer to babysit, I certainly won't refuse. You have the added bonus of providing security without Jack paying for a body guard."

Booth laughed that seemed to ease some of the tension in his neck. "Thanks for the job offer Ange, but I'll stick with my day job. Besides, the one I've got on the way that will definitely keep my hands full if they will be anything like their mother."

Now it was Angela's turn to chuckle. "That's true. And if they'll have a brain like hers, they'll be teaching preschool before they reach it. By the way, do you know if it's a boy or girl? Or are you just going to wait and see like what we did?"

Booth shook his head. "Not yet, but we will ask the doctor soon. And then Mikey here will know who his playmate his going to be."

The infant latched onto Booth's finger. "So, what exactly brings you to Hoover? You've become the lab messenger?"

"Something like that," Angela said with a grin as she opened her messenger bag to pull out a file. "I had wrapped up my end for the case and I was planning on handing over my material to Caroline since it's on the way home. Jack gave me some other stuff to give to you about the result of the crime scene."

Angela opened the file to show Booth. "The blood on the ground and the keys definitely belong to Michael Hayen."

"Could he still be alive? There was a lot of blood at the scene," asked Booth.

"Brennan and Cam believe it's possible, but that we need to find him sooner rather than later. Also the syringe contained the same substance used on the other two."

"Any finger prints?" asked Booth as he gently eased his tie out of baby Michael's mouth.

Angela shook her head. "No, not for this crime scene."

Booth eyebrow furrowed together. "What do you mean?"

"Brennan practically blew top off at the local PD when this came in," said Angela as she pulled out a photograph of a gold chain. "Apparently, the local CSU guys had started collecting evidence before either the FBI or the Jeffersonian came in. Somehow this got lost at the station and they only realized this now."

Booth's nostrils lightly flared. "I think they were lucky it was Bones and not me."

Angela's eyebrow raised. "What do you guys know about the necklace?"

"Not much yet. We know it does not belong to Dale Wallace. His family came by to collect his personal affects and they said it wasn't his. Cam said she found a partial print which belongs to Wallace, and Jack is trying to see if he can find anything else on it."

"Looks like it belonged to the attacker. Probably Wallace grabbed onto it during the struggle," said Booth as he rubbed his jaw.

"Agent Booth, I called up the Jeffersonian and they said- oh hi, Angela," said Sweets as he rushed into Booth's office. "I was about to tell Agent Booth you were coming."

"A little late there, Sweets."

Sweets frowned and looked towards Angela. "He's upset about something that happened at the Wallace crime scene."

"What do you mean?" Sweets asked.

Angela showed him the photograph of the necklace. "Let's just say DC's finest were not at the top of their game and we had some evidence that was missing up until now."

Sweets eyebrows rose when he looked at the photograph. "I know this pendant. It's a golden phoenix."

Booth squinted at the small item. "It looks like a chicken to me or a really ugly eagle."

Sweets shook his head. "It's the symbol of a heavy metal rock band. Anya's roommate… her boyfriend, Neal Ramos, he was wearing a shirt that had this exact design."

"Looks like we're going to have a little chat with Neal then."

* * *

><p>Booth rolled his fingers on the cool metal table within the FBI interrogation room. In front of him sat Neal Ramos, his head cradled in his hands and his fingers tangled in his long, dark hair. "Where is he?"<p>

Neal let out an exasperated sigh and slightly raised his head up. "I don't know. I told you this already."

Booth leaned forward. "Look, I had my guys check you out. Your hospital pass shows you accessed the hospital's pharmacy room just a few days before Fitzpatrick and you stole several vials of the muscle relaxant used on the victims."

"No, I did not," said Neal as he placed a hand over his heart. "I swear."

"Look, I understand you. I'd also be mad that someone touched girl that I would practically consider as a little sister. I mean, you were the first person to see her right after the attack-"

"Agent Booth… Yeah, I was mad, but I don't believe in violence."

Booth flipped over the photograph he had and slid it in front Neal. "We found this near Dale Wallis's body."

Ramos's jaw slightly slacked and his eyes widened in bewilderment. "That's my necklace."

"Yeah, my colleague figured that out since you wore a shirt with the same design," said Booth as he leaned back in his chair. "Can you explain why it was at that crime scene?"

Neal just continued to stare at the photograph. A rapid succession of short knocks caused Booth to turn his head towards the door. Sweets popped his head in and gestured to Booth to step outside.

"You have a few minutes to decide what you want to do," said Booth as he slid out of his chair with the still shell shocked Neal Ramos staring at the photograph in front of him.

As soon as he closed the door, Booth turned to Sweets. "What is it?"

"Agent Booth, I don't think he's our guy," said Sweets with a solemn face.

"You pulled me out to give your opinion in the middle of-"

Sweets shook his head. "Do you have your mobile phone with you?"

Booth felt around his pockets. "No… I think I left in my office. What does this-"

"Hodgins called."

That stopped Booth's complaints. "Well, what did he say?"

"He found some skin cells and a little blood on the chain from where it was ripped off… The DNA is female. He also finished looking again at Hayen's blue sweater and somehow found an eyelash that got stuck in the threads. It was also female. Same DNA as the necklace."

Booth grunted his frustration before he pulled out his phone and started shooting out orders.

* * *

><p>Dr. Lance Sweets sat before a pair of wide, frightened ocean blue eyes. A part of him felt like a cad forcing this young woman to help him save her attacker, but another part, the one that won him over, knew that he could not let a young man die. Time was of the essence and justice, proper justice, would hopefully be served later.<p>

"Anya, do you know why you are here?"

She just continued to stare at him with those eyes that looked like they belonged on a deer stuck staring down a pair of headlights. "Do you know where your roommate, Deborah, is? She wasn't at the apartment or the university."

She seemed to slightly snap out of the fear that had gripped her and she gave a short shake of her head. "Do you know the whereabouts of Michael Hayen?"

Her eyes dropped to her hands that were twisting the bottom of her shirt before she shook her head. "Did Deborah have something to do with Michael's disappearance?"

The girl continued to look down at her lap. "Did you?"

Her eyes shot up. "N-no!"

Sweets raised an eyebrow. "No?"

She resumed her focus on her lap which caused Sweets to sigh. "Anya, I know what I'm asking of you is difficult, but I really need you to tell me anything that you know. The others, parts of them were mutilated and they weren't necessarily dead yet when it happened. We need to find him before that happens to him."

Her breathing grew slightly shallow and her eyes widened, but she still focused her gaze on her lap and said nothing. Sweets knew he had limited time before Booth would come in with his bad cop routine. He knew he was watching from behind the two way mirror. He had announced it into his ear piece ten minutes earlier that Neal seemed to have been completely disconnected from the murders.

Sweets lightly flinched when Booth spoke to him once again. _"Sweets, the squints just called, Anya is not the killer. The blood sample we got with the warrant off her is a different blood type than what was on the necklace. It's probably Deborah Barker's. I'll also be coming in five minutes."_

Sweets let out another sigh. "Anya, I know you did not do those things to them. You don't look like someone who would intentionally hurt anybody."

She sniffled. "You are trying to be a good friend, but this isn't the way. There are other families involved who are hurting. Parents and siblings who lost someone close to them, who may, at this very moment, be losing someone close to them."

Anya had tears streaming down her face and Sweets had to swallow the bile rising in the back of his throat. He could hear the twist of the nob on the door to the interrogation room. Sweets slowly got up out of his chair to let Booth take over when he heard a small, soft voice behind him.

"The cave."

Sweets briefly caught Booth's eye before he turned around to face the girl with ocean blue eyes once more. "The cave?"

"I-If Debbie would want to hide, it would be in this cave we found once when we were hiking on a trail in the woods just outside of the campus."

Sweets felt relief wash over him. "Thank you…"

* * *

><p>Pebbles and dust slide scratched the once polished pairs of FBI issued leather shoes. Sweets grabbed onto a low lying branch to regain his balance after nearly sliding on his rear end again. He shot an envious glare at Booth with his ability to practically run down the hill in his flat and smoothed soled footwear. He was keeping up toe to toe with the SWAT Team members in their much more practical boots.<p>

Anya Volker had provided them the details that they compared with the local forestry service to find the exact location of the cave. It was located by a small stream at the bottom of the valley. In between the bushes, trees and shrubbery, Sweets could already see the entrance to it in the distance.

Booth gestured with his hands for everyone to stop and be quiet. He split the group into two, one group coming down from the left, the other from the right side of the entrance. Sweets followed him with the group that went left and they quickly made their way down the last portion of the hill. Sweets nearly slammed into Booth when he lost his balance after hearing a blood curling scream coming from within the cave.

Booth let out a string of explicative and made a mad dash for the entrance. He pulled out his flashlight and gun and Sweets fumbled with his own behind him. Another scream echoed off the walls causing the group to pick up their pace once again. Booth rounded a corner that had a dim light shining from it and Sweets could already hear him barking his orders.

"Drop your weapon and step away from Michael!"

Sweets rounded the corner with an armor clad SWAT team member and held out his own weapon out in front of him. Michael Hayen lay bound with ropes and rusty chains. His shirt had been shredded and he had cuts and bruises all along his arms and chest. His jeans had been pulled down and he was partially exposed with blood covering his grey boxer briefs. A scalpal lay nearby. Sweets averted his gaze and tried not let his thoughts delve too much into what that meant. Instead he focused his gaze on the woman who was holding a large folding hunting knife to his neck.

Her eyes were large and wild, her cheek and clothes were covered with blood, Hayen's blood. Sweets swallowed and tried to ease the dryness in his throat. "Deborah, we know what happened at your undergraduate institution."

"Shut up!" she shouted as she tightened her grip Michael.

"Sweets!" hissed Booth. "Deborah, drop your weapon and step away from Michael! Now! Or I'll be forced to shoot!"

"It was unacceptable what happened to you there…" continued Sweets.

"Damn right it wasn't! I-I was graduating. I just went to one party, _finally_, after sacrificing four years. And-and this bastard… he-he…"

"He spiked your drink and raped you," finished Sweets quietly and holstered his weapon.

Tears were streaming down her face, though her voice was clear and steady. "Yes… And when I went to the authorities, they swept everything under the rug. The university, the police, my peers… They tried to blame me! They called me a whore!"

Sweets slowly eased himself forward. "It was wrong."

Deborah was crying heavily now, but she still maintained her grip. "I received no justice. I-I was nearly destroyed!"

Sweets continue to cautiously move towards the pair. "But you still possibly can recieve it. The statute of limitation has probably not passed. We can help you put him behind bars."

She pressed the blade tighter to Michael's neck who hissed in turn. A small stream of blood slid down his throat. "No! No you can't! He'll get to walk away because he has money. Just like him!"

Sweets stopped moving and shook his head. "You are wrong. Michael is not going to escape from his crime."

"You are lying! He was able to get bail because of whose son he is. He was able to go shopping! He went shopping and bought this stupid shirt!" she shouted as she ripped a piece of his tattered shirt and held up in front of her.

Sweets slowly eased his way to her while she spoke so that he was practically an arms distance away from her. "He may have gotten a chance to go shopping, but he won't get away with it. We have video evidence. They incriminated themselves."

"What?" she breathed.

"It's not he said-she said. We have hard evidence. Michael is going to face justice and he won't escape."

Sweets slowly reached out for her wrist with the blade while she just stared at him with stunned eyes. Once he was gripping her hand, he was able to loosen he fingers hold and the handle and take away the knife. The rest of the team around rushed forward to arrest her and Sweets stepped back. He knees felt like jelly and he brought a shaking hand to rub his face. He nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to find that Booth beside him. His eyes seemed to struggle between anger and pride, but the pride won out and small grin appeared on his lips.

"Good job, Sweets."

* * *

><p>"…Hayen was released from the hospital and he'll soon be in court. Neal won't face disciplinary hearings by the university or hospital. Poor guy had no clue that she had stolen his key card because she slipped it back into his wallet before he noticed it during one of his naps. She never told him about her history and he had thought she was just curious when she had asked him some medical questions."<p>

Booth slurped down his milkshake and practically inhaled his burger. "You know, the food will not run away anymore. You can actually try chewing."

"Yes mom," said Booth with a grin.

"I will soon become a mother to a Booth, but it certainly won't be you," said Brennan with a glare. "Besides, I am only looking out for your best interests."

He just continued to smile at her. "What about the girls?"

"Anya… I'm not sure what they plan on doing with her. The prosecution doesn't want to touch her because she's a rape victim and she really had no direct participation with the murders. She realized her roommate might have been involved only after the second murder. Or at least that's what she says."

Brennan frowned. "What about the roommate?"

"Deborah… Deborah is a messy situation that I'm glad I'm not responsible for. I just know there will be charges and they will most likely start a trial against the guy who raped her as well."

Booth laid a hand on her own that was lying on the table. "What I am glad to be responsible for is making sure my favorite anthropologist is having lunch."

Brennan rolled her eyes. "Booth, I do not need you to hover. Though I could go and work with little food prior to my pregnancy, I am more than capable of ensuring that I consume enough calories for myself and my developing progeny."

"I know, Bones. But I also know you like it when I 'hover'," he said with a smile. "Come on, admit. You like it that I take care of you."

Brennan refrained from responding to his statement and instead switched topics. "How was it like working with Dr. Sweets in the field?"

He debated pointing out her avoidance, but he decided to indulge her this time. "The kid was alright. Sometimes likes to stuff his nose in personal matters-"

"But you did that with me as well when we started," interjected Brennan.

Booth ignored her and continued. "Almost got into a real tight spot at the end there, but I guess he isn't all that bad."

"Who isn't all that bad?"

'Or not,' thought Booth.

The pair looked up to find the subject of their conversation standing next to their table. "Nothing, Sweets."

"Actually, we were-"

"Just about to order some pie, isn't that right Bones?" said Booth with a pointed look at her.

Brennan shot one of her own to him. "Booth, you know I don't like my fruit cooked."

"No cravings, even with the pregnancy?"

"No."

Sweets shook his head and took a fry off of Booth's plate before scooting in next to him. "You're burger looks good. I think I'll order one as well."

Booth raised an eyebrow at Sweets while he nibbled on the strip of potato and started to grumble about a lack of respect given to him and his fries. He caught Brennan's eyes only to find a great deal of mirth within them that had not been present just a few months earlier. Maybe he could cut the kid a little slack.

* * *

><p><strong>The End. Hope you had as much fun reading as I did writing it. Cheers.<strong>


End file.
